


Rose Above The Clouds

by Aurora313 (orphan_account)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Atlas - Freeform, Canon-Typical Violence, Daddy Qrow, Flown North, Hummingbird - Freeform, RWBY - Freeform, Volume 7, it'll lead on and create its own ending for RWBY, mentions of alcohol withdrawal, qrow is a supportive hubby and wants his wifey better, this is like a total rewrite of the whole V7 fiasco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 09:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 62,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22253857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Aurora313
Summary: Team RWBY, Team JNR, Qrow and Oscar have all arrived safely in Atlas, met with Ironwood and are ready to start the next phase of their quest. But Ironwood is obligated to share an... uncomfortable truth with Qrow.ABANDONED
Relationships: Blake Belladonna & Ruby Rose & Weiss Schnee & Yang Xiao Long, Blake Belladonna & Yang Xiao Long, Qrow Branwen & James Ironwood, Qrow Branwen & Ruby Rose, Qrow Branwen/Summer Rose, Raven Branwen & Taiyang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose & Weiss Schnee, Ruby Rose & Yang Xiao Long, Summer Rose & Clover Ebi
Comments: 220
Kudos: 222





	1. Truth

A dust mine cleared, an ancient Giest Grimm taken care of, the kiddos now have their official Huntsmen Licences, the Amity Communications tower launch site was secure, and there was cake. All and all, Qrow probably considered this one of the better days. He was flowing with pride at the kids. They'd come a long way from the runts that started at Beacon Academy. For all of them, a life goal had been achieved when they were issued their licenses. And even though doubts lingered in some minds, they were far too preoccupied right now to care. They could let their troubles rest until tomorrow.

When all the pomp and ceremony was done, the group made their way back to Atlas Academy for a well deserved night's rest. They certainly earned it after all.

Quarters had been set aside for Qrow as well, a teacher's apartment that served well enough. A bed, an en suite bathroom, a table mounted computer, a chair and a kitchenette. He was on his way for a nap. As much as he tried to stay clean and sober, he'd been hiding a few of the less pleasant withdrawal symptoms with fists full of aspirin, fake smiles and galleons of water. Sleeping was hard in the first week alone, and while it'd been improving, Qrow was still well into sleep debt. The amount of times he'd been caught napping would've landed him in hot water if he was one of Ironwood's greenhorns.

As if summoned by the thought of him, Ironwood emerged from a corridor Qrow had just passed on his way to bed.

"Ah, Qrow there you are. I was wondering if we could take a moment to talk privately?" James requested formally.

Pausing his stride, Qrow turned back to regard the General with an eyebrow raised. "Uh, sure. What's on your mind?"

"Not here." James waved his hand then gestured for Qrow to follow him. The stresses of command had taken their tool on the man, and James Ironwood was looking as threadbare and worn to the bone as ever. But even through that, Qrow noticed another layer of anxiety compounding his already fraught expression.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going, or should I start taking bets?" He offered in his caustic tone.

Ironwood gave a chuckle, distant and forced. "The Military Hospital."

Qrow's expression darkened and rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath. "I hate hospitals..."

Their journey to the Hospital included a ten minute trip in an airship. When they arrived at the gates, they were greeted by a part of Atlesian military Huntsmen standing guard at the front door. Just inside was a check-in station.

"Please present your scroll for identity verification." The receptionist said dutifully following her script even though the man before her was the Atlas Headmaster and Commander of the Military.

Ironwood produced his scroll at set it into a port on the raised platform by the receptionist's computer terminal. "James Ironwood, General of the Altesian Military."

The port pulsed blue before turning bright green, authenticating his credentials. When the General gave Qrow an expectant look and gestured to the terminal, he repeated the gesture stating his name and occupation. When the computer flashed green, the receptionist pressed a button that opened the security gate towards the main complex.

Like any hospital, all the typical elements were present, the clinical white walls and ceiling, the harsh smell of antiseptics, medications and powerful cleaning chemicals. But Atlas took it to a whole new extreme. As they walked, Qrow's fatigue and impatience were mounting in equal measure.

"Okay, I think I've been played along with this little sight-seeing trip long enough. So, spill it. What's the deal? Unless you're planning on showing me where the Winter Maiden's resting, I can't think of any other reason why you'd bring me here?"

Ironwood's shoulders fractionally tensed and his posture stiffened. It seemed the entire time he was silent, he was pondering precisely what to say to Qrow. "There's something that you need to know. The truth is I wasn't sure how to breach the topic to you before now, and if I'm being totally honest I was waiting for you to recover - I know you've been struggling somewhat since you came to Atlas."

Qrow's frowned ever so slightly, lips pressed in a thin line. "That obvious is it?"

"I'm an observant man. And I can't recall a single conversation we've had where you haven't taken a sip from your flask at least once. However, that being said I would like to congratulate you. I can't imagine its been easy." Ironwood glanced over his shoulder,

Qrow was silent, shoving his hands in his pockets as they walked. "Lets just say... a few things happened in recent weeks that made me take a good long look at myself, and I didn't _like_ what I saw."

"Its always the way, isn't it?" Ironwood agreed somberly.

"So, since you dodged my question I'll ask it again; Why'd you bring me along James?" Qrow gestured to the walls around them, "Not that I don't appreciate the company, but I can imagine more picturesque places to have catch-up. We could've gone for a coffee at a nice cafe or something."

Ironwood chuckled fondly at the joke that time. "As much as I'd like to tell you, I've come to realise its best if I just showed you and let you make your own judgements."

Qrow scowled at the cryptic answer. He was so very _sick_ of cryptic answers. But James must have had a good reason, and whatever his answer was, it was deeper in the hospital. He noticed a black sign, the only irregularity of colour in this damned place, indicating the path to the isolation ward.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like this?" Qrow mused as Ironwood led them to an elevator which took them three floors up.

The General guided them both down the narrow hallway lined with security personal. At the very end of the hall was security station, set between two doors. The far door was basically an airlock, dead bolted shut with a gleaming black and blue number pad. The door closest to them was a plain pale blue slide door. As Ironwood approached the desk to speak with the officer, he gestured for Qrow to enter the slide door.

"I don't know how to prepare you for this, so I think its best if you see for yourself."

The security guard sitting at the desk opened the door, Qrow quickly glanced at Ironwood before ascending the stairs within. They led up to an observation lounge. On Qrow's left side, the windows were slated at an angle and opaque. A row of fluorescent lights illuminated the room from above which only added to the clinically detached feeling permeating the halls.

"I hate hospitals..." He muttered to himself again.

When Ironwood finally joined him in the room, he had a folded plastic evidence bag in his hand that contained something Qrow couldn't quite make out. "Three weeks before you and your group arrived at Mantle, some of my men detained a woman claiming to be a Huntress who stole her way inside Mantle's borders with the intention of seeing General Palatinate."

"Wait, as in your predecessor?" Qrow frowned, confused. "But, she passed last year, didn't she? A state funeral was held, and didn't the old man give a speech?"

"And retired ten years ago on top of that. This was among the woman's personal affects when we brought her in for questioning." Ironwood handed the bag to Qrow, and inside was a scroll. Black with silver edging highlights. It was an old fashioned model that went out of service about twelve years ago. While Qrow contemplated the scroll and fished it out of the bag, Ironwood had crossed the observation room and stood by a dimly lit control panel.

Qrow's lips pressed in a thin line while he waited for the thing to boot up, his eyes promptly widened the the size of saucers when the Huntress License flashed on the scroll's interface. His mouth opened in stunned disbelief and his eyes darted to Ironwood who returned only sympathy and silent apology.

"Given the nature of the situation and our enemy, I'm sure you can understand why we've elected to keep her in observation."

Ironwood ran his finger down the control panel, transitioning the opaque wall into translucent glass. Qrow approached the window and stared down, wide eyed and speechless. He leaned closer, hands pressed to the glass on either side of his head and completely oblivious to James' presence. He stared, slack jawed as his heart leapt to his throat and his gut twisted into knots. Emotions he couldn't even begin to describe were coursing through him, his mind raced with questioned, regrets, memories and so many things he couldn't even put name to them all.

"James..."

Qrow's voice was a low rumble as he stared down at the red-head currently sifting through reports in the isolation room, an indescribable emotion painted his expression as he looked towards the General.

"Why is my dead wife in your isolation room?" He stared down again at the form of Summer Rose.


	2. Theories and Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Qrow is reeling from the revelation and Ironwood sheds some light on the situation.

James Ironwood felt no small measure of sorrow, studying Qrow's profile. The other Huntsmen was preoccupied, staring down at what was an impossible dream until a moment ago. By all accounts, a woman the world had declared dead had just come back from the metaphorical grave, and with that came a flurry of emotions.

Ironwood truly wanted to let the moment settle. To let his friend absorb the magnitude of this truth, that his formerly MIA partner was present here and now, separated from him by a sheet of reinforced glass. But there were still plenty of things the General needed to brief him on. The situation was... complex, to say the least.

"James..." Qrow's voice was seismic as he turned to Ironwood to repeat himself, his eyes glowing blood red in accordance to his heightened emotions. " _Why_ is my dead wife in your isolation room?"

The General retrieved his scroll from his pocket, synchronizing it to the holographic display integrated into the glass wall. "When we detained her close to three months ago now, this was how she appeared."

Qrow's gaze had found their way back to Summer, only reluctantly glancing away when the image projected onto the glass. The heartbreak on his face was clear. The image was a mugshot of a thoroughly war-torn Summer Rose. Her lips were cracked, bruises that hinted a broken cheekbone covered the right side of her face, and a thin cut sliced across her nose and left eyebrow - these appeared to be from the same wound. It also appeared that someone had taken a knife to her long hair, hacking it off haphazardly until only an uneven mess remained. Only enough to reach the top of her ears.

Wider shots appeared, of other wounds, injuries and unfamiliar scars that decorated her body. Additionally, there was a shot of her in the clothes she had been dressed in at the time. A nondescript black body glove, appeared to be equal parts armour and restrain. The joint areas had been torn for the purposes of free movement it appeared.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ironwood saw his counterpart's fingers curl into tight murderous fists that trembled slightly. He then glanced down at Summer Rose in the isolation room. The woman's skin only showed the faintest signs of the worst injuries now. The most superficial damage had healed completely and her hair had grown in the several weeks since she had arrived. Still quite short, but long enough to be evened out and styled into something far less... _dehumanizing_. Even the natural highlights of red were growing more pronounced.

"She's been in your hospital - right under my nose - this entire time? And you didn't think to tell me?"

"As I said before; I knew you were struggling with your own issues when you came to Atlas. I wanted to make sure you'd recovered enough to handle something like this." James said, a silent plea on his face as he met his comrade's accusations head on. "Rest assured that we've made every effort to keep her comfortable."

Qrow's fist curled in anger and a tense moment passed before he relented. "No... no, you made the right call."

Qrow and Ironwood both glanced down at Summer, who seemed to have abandoned the reports she was going through in frustration and made her way to the kitchenette to make herself a coffee. He heard the faintest chuckle, more of a hoarse whisper, from Qrow's throat as Summer piled ungodly amounts of sugar into the mug. It was only a brief break in his dark humour.

"Who did this?" Only an idiot would miss the murderous intent underneath his words.

"I don't know," The General took a somber tone, flicking through his scroll to display more information. This time, a medical work up. "As you can imagine, when a woman appeared at our gates claiming to be a long-dead Huntress, we had to take certain precautions. The least of which was a complete physical examination, including a DNA test and stringent psychiatric workup once she as in our custody. During the physical examination we noticed similar signs of injury all over her body."

"And?"

"According to every test we've run; blood, dental, and birth records obtained from Argentum Primis - the civilian hospital in Atlas West Quarter. This woman is indeed Summer Rose."

"That's right. She was born here, wasn't she?" Qrow glanced up at the medical reports when Ironwood paused in his explanation, more photos were displayed, cycling through various body parts with injury, a host of new scars that spoke of years of constant combat and peculiar blister-like scars that seemed to be from severe burns. "What happened to her? Where has she been all these years?"

"I don't know." Ironwood answered.

"I didn't ask if _you_ knew - I'm asking where she's been!" Qrow thrust a finger towards Summer below, rage and pain finally bursting through to the surface.

Ironwood bore the brunt of his wrath stoically. " _She_ doesn't know either."

"Excuse you?" The anger withdrew, if only a modicum.

Ironwood went on, hands folded behind his back. "I called in every medical specialist I could think of; neurologists, psychologists, psychiatrists, even Semblance Experts to try and get something of her missing memory back, to provide some answers as to where she's been these past fourteen years. Unfortunately, all those attempts so far have proven fruitless."

Qrow's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Her memory?" His voice hitched lightly, and his hands trembled as he struggled to get his emotions in check. "How much of her memory? Does she..."

"From what I understand, she maintains perfect recollection of the events leading up to her last sanctioned mission. The dates roughly matches up to the dates she disappeared." Ironwood explained with heavy heart. "When questioned, she can't recall much of anything beyond that point; all she seems to remember is dreams or visions of being repeatedly shut inside some sort of enclosed space."

"A prison cell?" Qrow offered,

James shook his head once. "No. That was dismissed completely out of hand by her. But she does recall a glass roof and some sort of tube. Which... leads me to the next topic."

Ironwood sighed heavily and pressed a few keys on the window display, highlighting a medical report. "On the DNA test, we've discovered something... _concerning_. How much do you know about DNA telomeres and cell division?"

Qrow crossed his arms, frowning at the medical report, "I'm a simple man, James, and Medical Science was never my forte."

"I suppose not. Put bluntly; telomeres protect genetic information when cell division takes place, but a piece of lost each time the cell divides. Meaning as a body ages and cells divide, the telomeres grow shorter. In a way, based on the length of a cell's telomeres, you can determine that person's age."

Qrow raised a dark eyebrow, "And you're telling me this _because_?"

"In the DNA test we conducted, we discovered that her telomeres are longer than typical in a woman her chronological age. Of course, natural genetic variation in the gene pool count account for this, but this is far beyond what would be considered normal variation."

Qrow pinched the bridge of his nose with an exasperated sigh, "As much as I appreciate the science lesson, get to your point please."

"I believe that in the time she's been absent, Summer Rose has spent a significant amount of that absence in some form of cryostasis." Ironwood theorized, "The theory also matches with peculiar pattern of blister-like marks that match the lines of the clothing she was wearing when she arrived in Atlas. Clear signs of cryo burn." To emphasis his point, Ironwood flicked the images to the aforementioned scars that banded around Summer's wrists, ankles and neck.

"... that's Atlas technology." Qrow declared.

"It is." Ironwood said grimly.

" _Exclusively_ Atlas Technology."

"I understand how this looks."

Qrow side-eyed him, "I'm waiting for an explanation."

Ironwood sighed, letting his head drop to his chest. "As much as I wish it were otherwise, even with the most stringent security processes in place, there are still a selfish few who are willing to do anything for the right price - including selling military technology. And cryonics isn't exactly a new field. There's plenty of time for the plans for such technology to find its way onto the black market."

Qrow glared at him, "So you think some Black Market thug got a hold of the tech, kidnapped Summer, shoved her in a freezer and then... _what_? Blanked her memory of the entire thing?"

Ironwood nodded grimly, "As much as the concept is disturbing and sickening on more levels than I care to describe, in a world like ours anything is a possibility."

Qrow's gaze lowered to the floor before looking down at his former teammate once more, "I want to talk to her... _now_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, someone kidnapped Summer, shoved her in a cryotube and blanked her memory of what happened... spooky.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	3. Two Cages

Summer Rose returned to her desk with her _blasphemously_ sweet creation and took a long sip with a contented sigh. The coffee break was a welcome albeit brief reprieve from the reports she'd spent her weeks reading. It wasn't her only reading in this gilded cage, but it was the only source of outside information. None of it was good. Even the tokens of hope were summarily crushed by the weight of catastrophe she read in those manila folders.

Thankfully, when the real world got too depressing for her to handle, Summer had other writings to occupy her time. When she first awoke in this place an Atlesian Specialist named Mary Reed visited her frequently and Summer tried to strike up a conversation. Or rather, Summer spoke towards her and the woman responded in Atlesian Sign Language. She was a mute, but Summer knew enough of the language to understand what she was saying.

Specialist Reed was kind enough to provide her with some fictional entertainment. Books that included classic sagas like the Sun Throne Trilogy, The Tempest Gates or Sword of the Stars. They were set on a shelf that lined a far wall of this isolation room, which over the course of her stay, more resembled a sparse studio apartment. Albeit one with surveillance cameras in every corner.

 _Ironic how Atlas is the most technologically advanced kingdom in the world, but they still rely on old fashioned print paper._ Summer mused.

All things considered, James Ironwood had been more than accommodating with Summer's situation, and she honestly couldn't blame him for the skepticism initially presented to her either. Even now, being locked away in the depths of a hospital she was still a security risk. A random element that had been captured by an unknown and potentially hostile force that could likely have anti-establishment leanings or ties. The fact that Summer remembered very little of her precious captivity didn't help matters either. Though, there were pieces of memory she neglected to mention. Pieces she wanted to stay buried forever.

It was entirely within the realm of reason that she'd been turned into some kind of sleeper agent, designed to sow chaos and discord within her allies' ranks. In spite of that however, James Ironwood still saw fit to furnish her with reports about the current world's ongoing situation. Only a declassified version, but they helped paint a truly grim picture of the world she'd awoken to.

Two bastions of humanity's sanctuary, Beacon Academy and Haven Academy, had been attacked. The former left in ruins and the latter crippled with the loss of its headmaster. To add salt to the wound, Beacon fell to ruin and calamity on the eve of the Vytal Festival of all times! In a celebration designed to honour each other and build camaraderie between kingdoms, a terrorist cell brought the school to its knees. And the Kingdom still hadn't recovered. In the process, those loathsome bastards had sown the seeds of enmity and distrust, destroying eight decades of fragile peace.

Summer didn't know who caused it, but a deep loathing took root in the very core of her soul at the audacity. No, scratch that. She knew who caused it. Not the obedient little puppets who carried out the plan, but its grand architect. It was her. Beyond doubt, her fingerprints lingered all over it like a pox. After all, it was in accordance to her goals.

_Do you admire my handiwork child?_

A scream ripped through her throat in fright. A sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins, and Summer's heart rate spiked as a primal fear pierced through her like an icicle. Her hands trembled her flight-or-fight response kicked in, the Grimm-bound witch's voice ringing in her head. She slammed the manila folder closed with a hard slap on the table and pushed the thing away. Her breathing was hard Black ooze bubbled from the folder, that slowly evaporated into a pitch vapour. Summer slid away from the table and slowly backed away, her heart hammering in her chest and beads of perspiration dotting her brow. Desperately she willed for the power within her, the Light of her eyes, to come forth and dash this monstrosity from her sight. But alas, nothing came.

The spectre took shape into the visage of the corrupted witch. Salem's ever-present black and red eyes pinned Summer in place.

She gulped hard, trying to muster the strength she once had as she backed away. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't take her gaze off the Grimm Queen. "Leave me alone. Just leave me alone!"

 _You know exactly what to do to put a stop to this pain, Summer Rose._ The spectre of the evil woman hovered towards her, somehow rising above her.

Summer kept going until she found herself backed into the corner, her back literally against the wall as she tried to escape the ghost moving towards her. Dead white fingers reached down and caressed her cheek, Summer tried to swat them away but the image was no more tangible than a cloud.

"N-no... I'll _fight_ you. I'll use every power, every weapon I have down to my own eye teeth, I'll fight you. With every last breath..." Summer's trembling voice returned with a false confidence.

 _My dear Summer Rose, you already have. You already tried your hardest. You fought with all the powers you possessed and more. And now? You're a shell of your former self. Only alive by my grace alone. A broken weapon, a light extinguished. But I have need of you._ Salem's visage knelt down before her, her alien expression morphing into something almost human.

 _You know what I need, child. You are the only one with the power to give it to me. Simply obey and this can all be over. You will be at peace._ Salem cooed in a motherly tone, a mocking reminder of the same way Summer once did at her toddler daughter and niece. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Summer's heart hammered like a thundering drum, tears of defiance in her eyes as she shook her head. " _No_."

In a flash, Salem's clawed hand raced towards her head and Summer screamed again in primal fear, shrinking into a ball to feebly protect herself. Her entire frame shuddered as hopeless sobs ripped from her throat.

She didn't hear the massive mechanical door lock disengage, nor the sound of foot falls coming into the room. She didn't hear the confusion, the questions, or her name yelled in panic followed by barked orders for a doctor. She remained curled in a ball in the corner, sobbing into her palms as more footfalls echoed in her room. They stopped before her and the person knelt down. Summer could feel calloused hands gingerly touching her elbows. She flinched away and their owner recoiled.

"Shortstack...?" The husky voice was like a knife, cutting to the core of her with those simple words.

Summer's breath hitched and she slowly looked up, the fear in her spiked again when she saw red eyes but they weren't the eyes of a demon from the depths of hell. They belonged to a softer, older-looking face. Scruff decorated his cheeks and his hair was flecked with greys. He looked older, more ragged like life had taken its toil on him. She blinked, eyes still filled with tears as she whispered the name so quietly it was almost a non-sound.

"Q-Qrow?"

His lips curled into a sad smile. "Yeah Sum, its me."

The tears renewed in earnest and she launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and her face buried in his vest. She sobbed and wailed like a child ripped suddenly from the depths of a nightmare. Qrow fell back on his haunches, but wrapped his arms around her all the same.

Summer clung to him like he was her last desperate refuge for sanity and strength, her grip tight and likely to the point of pain but he made no complain.

"Its okay..." His husky voice soothed gently, rubbing circles in her back and resting his chin on her crown. "I'm right here."

"I... I never thought I'd... Gods-!" She hiccuped, her face buried in her vest. Her voice was a hoarse whisper, ravaged by her screams and sobbing.

Qrow quietly shushed her, still rubbing soothing circles in her back. "Its okay. Just... breath for me, okay? Just breath."

Summer shook her head, her eyes squeezed closed. "I-I tried e-everything... I-I fought as hard as I-" She whispered desperately. "She... she doesn't die, Qrow... She. Doesn't _._ _Die_!"

Qrow pulled her closer, holding her tight and she could hear the pain in his own whispered answer. "I know."


	4. Sedated

Ironwood wore a forlorn mask, watching the Doctor and Nurse tended to Summer Rose. At their instruction, Qrow had lifted her onto the bed and then was promptly shoved out of the room. His bark of protest summarily ignored as the Doctors hyper-focused on their task. The nurse had produced a syringe of some clear liquid while the Doctor spoke calmly and clearly to her, attempting to keep Summer grounded through this latest episode. It was a distressingly familiar sight for the General and one he wished his friend wouldn't have had to see today.

After being all but removed from his wife's side, Qrow had slunk away exiting the room and walking a ways down the corridor. Ironwood watched him slump against the wall with his face buried in his hand. He composed himself and closed the gap between them, hands at his sides.

"She's had these attacks before." Ironwood explained with a heavy heart. "Many times before I'm sorry to say. All classic signs of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. Whatever she had to endure in her absence, regardless of her ability to recall, it's clearly left its mark."

"It's all my fault. I should've looked harder. I should have convinced her to stay. There must have been signs somewhere… damn it all to hell, did I miss them? Was I just…" Qrow muttered under his breath shaking his head as despair undoubtedly took root in his mind.

Ironwood recognized the pattern of behaviour in many of his own troops and officers. Many of them wandering and stating what they could have done - _should_ have done better after a horrendous defeat or a pyrrhic victory. Not even the General was immune to that kind of self-flagellation. Private concerns often have haunted his own mind, but he kept those in lock-down to not affect his troops' morale. He had to be the rock, the figurehead and leader everyone needed to rally behind. Ironwood shifted uncomfortably after he realised he let his thoughts wander too far. Perhaps that he should have left Qrow to his own private thoughts. And he would, but these were still things they needed to discuss.

He tried to interject some reassurance. "The news isn't all grim, pardon the pun. In the months she's been in our care, she's made remarkable signs of recover. Small steps, but as the old saw goes; progress not perfection."

"But still suffering badly enough that you need to scream for the orderlies to pump her full of sedatives?" Qrow said with a note of accusation.

Ironwood's face became downcast and his head lowered, looking precisely as remorseful as he felt at the situation. "I regret that its become the necessity, but please understand that we're doing everything in our power to ease her suffering and guide her on the path to recovery. After that, plans for potential rehabilitation are in motion."

"You make her sound like an invalid." Qrow scoffed bitterly.

"I shouldn't have to tell you of all people that Post-Traumatic Stress is a crippling sickness Qrow. Treatable, manageable but never cured." Ironwood took on a harsh tone, but relented. He exhaled and tried to continue with a calm measured voice. "Now that you're here, I'm sure she'll sleep soundly knowing you're safe… as safe as we can be in our professions."

"She didn't even know I was alive?" Qrow half-demanded, standing up straight and aghast.

"I promise you; once her identity was confirmed in the DNA tests I gave my personal assurance that you were still alive." Ironwood responded, glancing over his shoulder towards the open door. "Of course, she didn't have a reason to trust me on that matter. But when your letter arrived some time ago regarding the Haven attack, I gave it to her as proof. She was understandably relieved to hear of your survival."

"Understandably." Qrow echoed, rubbing his eyes. "... I uh, I'm sorry I took that tone. Just... a lot to take in. I don't suppose there's any chance I'll be able to speak with her today. We've got... a lot of things to talk about."

"Yes…" Ironwood sighed heavily, feeling a weight on his shoulders. "She hadn't had any significant issues in the last couple of days, I thought now might've been a good time for the both of you to see each other. And I've never been more sorry to be mistaken."

Qrow shrugged in resignation, "Just bad luck, I guess. I'm just happy she's alive."

Ironwood didn't reply. Instead, his mind was focused on the tactical import of this new. It was hard news to hear. Shocking. And he had to make allowances for that. He couldn't have one of the best fighters in Atlas distracted by personal drama. Not when the communications tower needed to be completed. "Given the delicacy of this situation, I can understand if you choose to take time away from assisting in our supply runs for now."

"Much as I appreciate the offer, I'd rather keep myself busy if its all the same to you James." Qrow replied, crossing his arms and peering down at the corridor. "Besides, you said it yourself you need all the fighters you have for this operation. Can't have me bow out and let the kids take up the slack. And if I suddenly change routine, they'll get nervous and ask questions that I'm not willing to answer right now. I just need some time to think this over, and nothing clears my head better than killing Grimm."

"I understand if you don't want this to get out." Ironwood continued sympathetically, "The current circumstances and illnesses aside, Summer Rose is alive. That mere knowledge alone would draw enemies and old grievances straight to us like a magnet. Brothers know we've already got enough problems on our hands. That being said, may I suggest letting Miss Rose know about this? I think she'd like to know her mother is still-"

Qrow raised a hand to halt him, his expression and tone were firm. "The situation's complicated. And no offense, I don't particularly want to get into it with you. A man's family life is his own business, James."

Ironwood nodded once to give his understanding. "Fair enough. If that's how you want to proceed, then I'll leave it to you. I'll also ensure that you're permitted access to this ward. You'll be able to visit Summer whenever you'd like."

Ironwood's scroll chimed persistently, breaking the tension of the moment. With some reluctance, he plucked it from his breast pocket and examined the message. Council droning, protests and more administrative work than he'd like were all vying for his attention. Ironwood shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Qrow, I'd hate to leave you alone especially at a time like this, but I need to get back to the Academy."

Qrow waved him off, "Nah, I get it. Duty calls and all that, right?"

"Right." Ironwood clapped a hand on Qrow's shoulder, "If you ever need to discuss anything, you know where my office is."

"Thanks James." Qrow nodded his thanks and Ironwood returned a faint smile of his own before answering an incoming hail on his scroll.

Qrow watched him leave, his mind clouded by a hurricane of regret and heart troubled by more emotions than he'd care to realise. He'd seen her, held her, spoken to her. But he still couldn't believe Summer was alive. Broken, yes, but alive. He closed his eyes and drew in a deep steadying breath, pushing himself to move back towards her room. He arrived just in time to meet the doctor exiting the room.

The old man looked around and his brows knitted together in a frown. "Where's the general?"

"Gone."

"And you are?" The Doctor barked, raising an eyebrow.

"A friend." Qrow replied then gestured into the isolation room, past the doctor where he could see the prone form of Summer Rose. "What's her condition?"

"Stable for now. We've managed to give her something to take the edge of." The Doctor explained with his gruff tone.

"Can I talk to her?" Qrow already moved to the room without waiting for an answer but the Doctor raised his hand to bar his path.

"That's not advisable."

"Noted. Can I talk to her?" He repeated.

"Sir, respectfully-"

"Look pal, _'respectfully'_ I'm getting into that room - one way or another." Qrow declared, crossing his arms.

The Doctor glared at him darkly. Security guards around Qrow tensed ever so slightly. Fingers twitching towards weapons in anticipation of a fight none wanted to take part in.

The Doctor scoffed then moved aside to allow the Huntsman entry. "Very well. Keep it brief. The patient is still prone to volatile tendencies."

Qrow glared daggers at him on the way past, not liking that tone one bit. He came up to the side of Summer's bed wit his heart thundering in his chest from nerves. She was sleeping already from the looks of this, her chest rising and lowering in time with her soft breathing. A far cry from the hysterical woman he'd seen only minutes before. Qrow reached down and brushed the lingering tears from her puffy cheeks and Summer suddenly gasped, her eyes fluttered open. They were glazed over by the sedative and she was definitely fighting to stay conscious.

She blinked slowly, her bleary eyes trying to focus on him. "You're... here?"

Qrow chuckled, "Yeah I'm right here, bright eyes."

Tears gathered at the corner of her eyes and trickled down her cheeks as she chuckled, a hollow broken sound that broke his heart. "I can't believe it..." She half-choked out.

"Neither can I." His spare hand reached for hers and gripped tight. "You had a fright, Shortstack. Do you need anything?"

"M'sleepy... fighting it." She replied sluggishly. Her eyes slid closed but she forced them open again, as if to re-emphasis her point.

"Will you be here when I wake up?" Her voice was tiny, afraid. As if the image before her was yet another trick of her damaged mind.

Qrow offered only a sad smile in return, fishing out something from his pocket. "I promise I'll come back the first chance I can."

He wrapped the black cord around her hand, letting the crooked silver cross rest in her palm. "I'll see you soon, alright? We've got a lot to talk about. But just sleep for now, okay?"

As if she'd been waiting for his permission all along, Summer closed her eyes and drifted into drug-induced slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly unnamed Doctor. Never get between a man and the wife he hasn't seen in over a decade.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	5. Aftermath

"Huntress Ruby Rose!" Yang liked the sound of it, winking at Ruby. "Really rolls off the tongue, don't ya think?"

She was positively beaming with pride at her little sister. More than that, she was proud of their friends - their _family_. Grinning, she slung her arm around Ruby's shoulders and held her close.

After Ironwood had sent them back to Atlas, he'd given them liberty to enjoy their new ranking however they wished. So, after gorging themselves on more cake than was probably healthy, the girls decided to break off and go their own separate ways for a while. Weiss had retired for the evening while Blake chose to head to the library. Penny enthusiastically volunteered to show her what was what, told Blake all about the huge collection of literature contained within those halls; the _largest_ collection in the world as she proudly declared. And judging from what they'd seen of Atlas so far, that was no idle boast.

Ruby and Yang wandered through the halls of the Academy after they decided to have a sister's night out exploring their new environment. The entire floating city just screamed ostentation and affluence and the Academy was no different. It wasn't the same as Beacon, nothing could replace their home kingdom, but it sure as hell measured a close second. The problem was everything was a bit _too_ rich for their blood, and they'd only _just_ gotten their licences. Meaning even with the typical global discount afforded to Huntsmen and Huntresses as professional curtsy, a single meal would likely cost more than their monthly allowances combined!

Faced with that difficult situation, Yang and Ruby decided to make their way back to the Academy. The cafeteria was heavily automated, and they could get a quick meal for free!

"I don't know, Huntress Yang Xiao Long. What do you think?" Ruby countered, giggling as the sisters took their sweet time approaching their destination. Neither were particularly willing to admit they'd gotten rather frightfully lost on their journey.

"I think its a sound I can certainly get used to!" Yang declared with no small amount of self-satisfaction. "We did it, we're Huntresses."

"Yeah, but we've still got a long road ahead of us." Ruby sighed, suddenly downtrodden.

"We do, but we've got all day tomorrow to worry about that. Lets just try to relax for the rest of the night, okay? No worrying about crazy ladies, Grimm or world-ending threats. Just the two of us sisters hangin' out and having a blast for the rest of the night." Yang encouraged her gently, playing up her own happy-go-lucky attitude.

Ruby made a noise half-way between a giggle and a snort. "Not much of a night left, Yang."

"Oh you know what I mean." Yang blew a raspberry.

Their musical laughter proceeded them, echoing through the empty academy halls. When they finally managed to make their way to the large dining hall, the place was apparently empty. The lights embedded in long lines above were motion sensitive and slowly transitioned to life when the sisters entered the doorway. It allowed them to see everything from the tables that streaked the hall, clinical white against the faded grey of the walls. The kitchen was on the far right corner. But the fresh illumination disproved their earlier assumption that the chamber was completely empty.

They caught a glimpse of the only other soul in the cafeteria, sitting alone in the corner with his back to them. It was Qrow. He'd shed his heavy grey jacket, which now rested beside him, and sat on one of the pews on the furthest side of the large hall. Elbows leaning on the table and his head leaning against his clasped hands, before him was a mug of something that had probably long since gone cold. The sisters exchanged a look and approached with worry on their faces. The poor man looked like he'd aged decades in the last couple of hours.

"Uncle Qrow?" Ruby ventured cautiously.

The old Huntsman was locked in his thoughts apparently because he hadn't even detected the appearance of someone else in the room, let alone seeing his nieces judging by the jump and stunned expression on his face when he saw them.

"You okay?" Yang asked, crossing her arms.

Qrow regained some of his composure as he glanced between them, seemingly relieved it was only the two of them. Despite that, he still hesitated in his answer. "Yeah - I'm okay."

"You sure?" Yang asked, she walked around the table giving a critical eye to the contents of the mug. Based on the smell and colour, it was a black coffee. That alone gave her some comfort. At least he wasn't falling back on his lesser habits when they weren't watching.

"You just looked a little lost, or worried I guess?" Ruby asked, she rested a hand on his shoulder before taking a seat beside him. Yang took a seat across from them and leaned on the table.

"Does this have something to do with why General Ironwood wanted to talk to you?" Yang asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.

Grimly, Qrow nodded, letting his hands fall on the table, palms facing down. He watched his reflection in the cold coffee.

"You know you can talk to us, right?" Ruby reassured him with a gentle smile that was also a touch sad.

Qrow made no response, his lips pressed in a thin line as he scrutinized his own reflection. A long moment of silence dragged on while the teenagers watched their uncle intently. His eyes were peering down at the table as if looking through it.

"About three - no, closer to four months ago now, Ironwood's men found a woman on his boarders. A huntress that I - that _everyone_ thought had been dead nearly fourteen years now." Qrow explained somberly, his voice slow and measured. "James wanted to let me know that she was here in Atlas, that she was in his care and wanted to offer me a chance to help her."

"Why would he want your help with something like that?" Yang raised a skeptical eyebrow, "I mean, you said she was in care, right? What reason would Ironwood have to for you to get involved? We just got here."

"He wants me involved because that woman..." he hesitated, "She's my wife."

A long silence dragged on. Yang's jaw hit the floor while Ruby stared, wide-eyed in stunned disbelief at their uncle. Qrow glanced at the two of them in turn before looking back down at his coffee.

"Wait... what?!" Yang couldn't believe her ears. Their Uncle, the womanizing, playboy roguish adventurer... was married this whole time?! To who?! Who could've possibly made enough of an impression to get _Qrow_ of all people settle down and tie the knot? When did this happen? And why in the hell weren't they invited to the festivities?

"You're _married_?!" Ruby all by screamed in shock, eyes wide. Qrow shushed her, even putting a finger on his lips for emphasis like when they were both young children. Ruby's voice lowered to an astonished whisper. "Why didn't you tell us?!"

Qrow punched the bridge of his nose with a hefty sigh, "Because until this afternoon, I thought she was dead."

"So... we have an aunt that you _never_ told us about?" Yang said, her anger bubbling up. More lies. More lies and secrets and she was so thoroughly sick of the damned secrets! It was enough that she was feeling the touch of her semblance tainting her eyes. "Why didn't you tell us? We had more family out there we didn't know about?"

"I thought she was _dead_ , Yang. Dead and gone. Never coming back to me. She disappeared a long long time ago, back when you two were children. So tell me, what would've been the point of telling you you had a dead aunt?" Qrow demanded, leaning back. He wasn't angry at her outburst, just tired and resigned.

Yang crossed her arms, silently conceding the point.

"But, if she's back then... that's a good thing." Ruby chimed, trying to inject some of her typical cheer to lighten the mood of the conversation, she smiled hesitantly at her Uncle. "Right?"

Qrow looked at her, his red eyes showing a flurry of emotions in a split second that neither sister could actually describe them all, but the guilt was the most obvious one to see. "Yeah, it is. But... its _complicated_. Right now she's sequestered up in a mental ward; she's been missing for over a decade, and in that time she's been through gods only know what kind of hell. That kind of experience leaves a mark."

Ruby's hands went to her mouth at the description, "My gosh..."

Their uncle shrugged expression distant and melancholic, leaning on his raised hand and idly playing with the cold coffee mug, "Can't really blame her; what she's suffered."

"So... what are you going to do?" Yang asked cautiously.

Qrow threw his spare hand up. "What else? Help her heal. She's my wife and I'd be a piss poor husband if I didn't do everything I could to support her."

Another silence dragged on, Ruby and Yang shifting uncomfortably in the silence before their Uncle finally broke it.

"You two go to bed. Altas marches to a different tune than Beacon and the time tables aren't anywhere near as merciful." Qrow warned them playfully, his smile disguising the pain of a splitting headache.

"Wait - hey, that's not fair! You can't drop a bombshell like this on us and then tell us to rack off likes its all hunky-dory!" Yang protested, shooting to her feet. "How can we sleep after hearing something like that?"

"Typically in a bed with their eyes closed." Qrow retorted with a shrug, "Look. Its a delicate situation right now, and when I saw her... I honestly doubt she even realized I was there and not some hallucination. And until I've figured out how to sort this mess out, I really don't want this getting around. So, I'm trusting you two to keep your mouths shut, alright?"

"Gez..." Yang grumbled, "Can you at least tell us her name? I mean, it'd be nice to -"

"Maybe some other time." Qrow brushed off quickly. Yang's lips pressed in a thin line as her brows furrowed in annoyance at his cagey answer.

"Okay. That's alright. Its personal, I get that." Ruby reassured him gently, a hand on his shoulder. She smiled encouragingly. "You don't have to tell us if you don't want to. But, if you need help - we're happy to, okay?"

"Thanks, kiddo." Qrow returned with an appreciative look before nodding towards the door, "Now get to bed. Atlas ain't lax like Beacon."

"Fine. We'll go. But _you_ better get some sleep too. You ain't as young as you used to be, old man." Yang teased, poking her tongue out. "You want to look at least half-way presentable for that blushin' bride of yours, right?"

"Cute. Get outta here." Qrow replied frankly, throwing his thumb over his shoulder.

Yang and Ruby departed the table, obeying their uncle and finding themselves suddenly not as hungry anymore. They'd already had more than their fill of sugar anyway, and eating anything more would probably give them a stomach ache.

"Good night Uncle Qrow!" Ruby waved from the doorway with a grin, her grin faded slightly into something more somber. "Hey Qrow?"

"Yeah?"

"When your wife starts to feel better, do you think it'd be okay if we got the chance to meet her?" Ruby asked innocently. "When you were together she made you happy, right? I'd like to thank her for that."

"Of course. I promise." Qrow smiled, but even from here the sisters could see the bitterness hidden behind his eyes.

* * *

Summer's eyes fluttered open, overcome by a grogginess lingering from the sedative used to knock her out. They closed again in frustration with a drawn out sigh. Another episode. A bad one too, not that she needed anyone else to tell her that.

They were beyond maddening at this point. She absolutely hated how much of a ticking time bomb she was. Even as she tried her best to catch up with the events of the world, sometimes just thinking of Sa - Just thinking of _her_ was enough to drive Summer to hysteria.

In that maddened state, she almost imagined Qrow of all people standing before her, trying to comfort her. It shouldn't have been a surprise; he was her husband, her life partner both on and off the battlefield. Father of her daughter. Why wouldn't she think of him in a time of great strife?

That fact that she still lingered on her mind like a cancer boiled her blood. Anger surged through her veins and she clutched her hands into tight fists of frustration.

Her features creased slightly in a frown - what was in her hand? She felt something coiled around it and cold on her palm. It wasn't a restraint, she'd known that unfortunate pleasure too intimately to mistake it for anything else. But it was a curiosity. Fighting through the lingering fuzziness from the unfortunately required drug induced slumber, she sluggishly held the object up to her face for inspection then gasped in stunned recognition.

Summer stared wide-eyed at the cross dangling over her palm, glimmering in the light. She choked out a tiny chuckle, her lips twitching up into a disbelieving smile as she forced herself to sit up and stare down at the silver jewelry. He was here. She hadn't imagined things. The relief gave away to shame and her fingers curled around the cross, her lips pressed in a thin line. She suddenly hated the fact. She hated how weak she was in front of him. Certainly, it wasn't any kind of reunion that she wanted with him.

"Why did you have to see me like that…?" She whispered in a somber tone.

Summer wanted to curse it as unlucky, and if she was any judge Qrow would likely blame himself for the poor timing. And that'd likely make him want to stay away from her out of fear of causing more attacks.

"Guess I won't be seeing you again... did you leave this behind because that's what you wanted to say? Or was it a promise you'd come back?" She asked the pendant as if it held her answers.

Summer uncoiled the necklace and pulled it over her head, letting the pendant rest on her sternum. Her fingers blushed the warm silver and she smiled sadly to herself. Even if Qrow chose never to come back, feeling his bad luck semblance caused the latest attack, then she at least had this piece of him with her. And with it, her resolve hardened. She would strive to face her trauma, to stand tall against her demons and heal.

If he wouldn't come to her again, she would just have to go to him.


	6. The Key To Despair

Cinder stared out at the wall-spanning glass panes overlooking the City of Atlas. Air-bound transports and other cargo vehicles scurried back and forth between the city's disjointed blocks like worker ants. She was disgusted to her core by this place. These so-called 'elites' who, by some foolish stroke of luck, were born into the upper echelons of wealth and power. They sat in their oh-so-grandiose perch in the sky, looking down upon the rest of the world while they selfishly hoarded their riches to maintain the presumption of status.

Oh, how it would be a wonder to watch their world crash and burn. Once Cinder located the Winter Maiden Ironwood locked away in this wretched hive of platinum and dust, she would take the relic from its vault and savour watching the 'mighty' city crumble towards Remnant.

Such a perfect fate for the conceited; to be torn from their heavenly thrones and cast down. And with two relics in her possession and Altas in ruins, Cinder could return to Salem's good graces after the travesty that was Haven Academy.

Just thinking of that upstart bandit whore made her blood boil, how easily she was bested by lowborn scum like that Raven Branwen chafed at her pride. She had heard so many stories of Raven's cunning and skill, she thought she'd accounted for all the possible scenarios. Looking back, the truth was so blatant but Cinder's own hungry left her blind to the glaringly obvious.

More than once, Cinder had entertained the notion that perhaps Raven made her own schemes to thwart hers. She pondered that perhaps the Branwen twins weren't on as hostile terms as they liked the world to believe, and it was all an act to corner and kill Cinder herself. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

Raven Branwen was the kind of woman to play both sides and emerge unscathed. As for the relic? Well, since the identity of the Spring Maiden was now known, it would have been prudent to relocate it to a vault where the key maiden was still an unknown factor. And taking the relic to Atlas to seal away meant there was an entire military they had to fight through to get to it.

Cunning indeed. Cinder grit her teeth in frustration. It was all becoming clear, just how much she'd been made a fool of.

The door swished open and Cinder glimpsed the vestige of a woman wearing the garments of an Atlas Military Specialist. Her eyes were pale green, and her brown hair was tied back in a regulation bun.

The Fall Maiden's lip curled up, "You're back late. Did you have fun with your little dress-up game today?"

The Specialist rolled her eyes in silent annoyance as she sauntered up to the single table in the room, setting down the scroll she had fished from her pocket. A holographic screen projected from the device which displayed a speaker icon. Cinder had come to know this appearance as Mary Reed, one of many undertaken by Neo Politan in their time together in Atlas. The guise fell away in a dazzlingly display of pink sparks rippling over her frame, revealing the true form of Neo Politan.

 **THE GENERAL HAS SOMEONE IN CUSTODY IN MAIN HOSPITAL WING. HEAVY SECURITY. COULDN'T GET NEAR HER WITHOUT AN ACCESS CODE.** The words were read out by a stilted artificial voice completely devoid of emotion or flow.

Cinder's mind rushed with thoughts of this being the Winter Maiden and it ignited her hungry, her heart fluttered and beat just a little faster in anticipation. But she quelled it. As much as it would be a delight, to find the Winter Maiden so casually and quickly was too good to be true. Ironwood wouldn't keep such a vital asset so openly displayed. No, her second thoughts were that this was a new factor. A different person entirely. And that realisation halted her mad desire to act in haste.

"The General is struck with fear and paranoia. I doubt that this is the woman I'm looking for." Cinder dismissed with a wave of the hand, thoroughly disappointed by the notion. No matter how she wished it were so.

Neo's lips pressed in a thin line and she typed her response quickly into her scroll, which echoed her words in a clinical flat tone. **SHE'S IMPORTANT ENOUGH TO SOMEONE. ONE OF THE HUNTSMEN FROM RUBY'S GROUP, THE MAN WITH THE SCYTHE, WAS PERSONALLY ESCORTED TO SEE HER BY IRONWOOD.**

Cinder blinked and looked back towards her co-conspirator. "Qrow and Ironwood are both Ozpin's puppets, I'm not surprised they'd lean on each other if something important enough caught their attention. But... what about this woman could possibly _draw_ their attention, beyond her perhaps being a new Maiden?" The thought was enticing, but Cinder curbed her enthusiasm on that matter. She had to focus on one task as a time.

**I DON'T KNOW. BUT THE GUARDS ARE ORDERED TO REMAIN SILENT AND NOT DISCLOSE HER IDENTITY TO ANYONE OUTSIDE A SELECT GROUP. I ONLY FOUND HER BY SHEER CHANCE.**

Cinder frowned and pondered this, intrigued.

"Tell me, do you know what this woman looks like?" Cinder demanded, hand on her hip. "Why is General Ironwood so keen on keeping her a secret? Has he grown complicit in his little Citadel?"

Neo Politian rolled her eyes and cast her semblance, her Overactive Imagination rippled over her in pink shards of light. It morphed her appearance into a woman somewhere between her late twenties to early thirties wearing Atlas Academy issue Pajamas. She was five feet five tall, short hair with tints of red and silver eyes. Dark bags etched under her eyes and old faded scars marred her flesh.

"WHAT?! She **_escaped_**?!" Cinder's maiden powers flared to life in her outrage, orange flame blazing from her single remaining eye. "How could she have escaped?! What did that stupid man think he was doing?!"

Neo crossed her arms and cocked an eyebrow, a silent inquiry of who her image was and why she would cause such a reaction.

Cinder's teeth ground together. The image that Neo had taken was one she'd seen many times before, one she had last scene frozen stiff in a cryonic tube while that idiotic man Watts was in between his experiments. Just thinking over her sent Cinder spiralling into her own anger. It was _her_. The mother of that little _bitch_ who ruined her! Who took her arm and her eye! Summer Rose.

Hunched over slightly, Cinder's furious heavy breathing continued for a long moment until finally, she sucked in a heavy breath. Cinder closed her eye, straightened her posture and drew in deep steadying breaths to recompose herself. She had to remember where she was, what she was doing. Cinder now had two options set before her. First, if she was extraordinarily lucky, she may be able to collect three prizes for Salem instead of two. The two relics and the long lost toy Silver-Eyed plaything Salem had invested so much time into breaking. Or she could simply cut her losses and be content with the two relics.

The Fall Maiden contemplated these two options before a slow smile turned the corner of her lips. "Tell me, Neo," Her tone returned to its usual silky smooth manner, "How would you like the chance to inflict even more pain and despair on our mutual Little Red?"

Neo cocked her head to one side, lips turned downward in a displeased line while still wearing the appearance of Summer Rose. "I know you and Roman were close. He was almost like brother or even a parent to you, wasn't he?"

Neo nodded slowly, frowning.

"Well then, I'd say its only fair to even the scales, wouldn't you? That woman," Cinder pointed to Neo, still disguised in her illusion, "Is named Summer Rose. She's Ruby's mother. She is the key to causing Ruby the ultimate despair that she's forced you to endure. And when Little Red's in that deep dark pit, when ending her would be mercy - don't you think that would be the most perfect moment for revenge?"

Cinder closed the gap between them with a self-satisfied smirk on her face, Neo looked up at her as the illusion fell away once more.

Her lips split in a wide grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cinder and Neo now know about Summer, and Cinder is pissed.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	7. Visitors

Summer Rose had her eyes closed and legs crossed while she sat on the bed. Her breathing set to a slow steady rhythm while she focused on clearing her mind of all distractions. Meditation wasn't one of her typical hobbies, but she still found it useful in a variety of aspects in her Huntress life. Under her father's tutelage, she'd studied and experimented with these techniques, exploring their potential as avenues to master her unique gifts more effectively just as her father had in his prime.

It was a strenuous exercise in patience to not allow her mind to stray too far from her objective. Every time she'd let her control slipped, even for just a fraction of a second, Summer's thoughts would inevitably wander back to her... _captivity_. Just one misplaced step would be enough to open those haunting floodgates, to send her spiraling into that deep dark abyss. Those memories would drown her. It'd end in another hysterical fit that would have her strapped to a medical bed and pumped full of more chemicals than she'd care to know.

Summer vehemently wished not to relive those experiences again, she'd had enough of that unpleasantness to last a lifetime. But Summer also knew on a fundamental level that if she didn't face the demons gnawing at every unguarded thought, then she'd have no chance of walking out of this place in anything other than a straight jacket.

The truth of the matter was; she _did_ remember.

Fragments and pieces, yes, but she remembered. Enough to know her initial assault on the Evernight Citadel was futile, enough to know that Salem quite literally walked off everything Summer had thrown at her. And enough to know a... _sizable_ sampling of interrogative techniques they tried. All of these facts which she pointedly neglected to inform General Ironwood about.

If General Palatinate were still alive and the one dealing with her now, then Summer would have been more forthcoming with information. She had known the woman for some time. In fact, it would've been no exaggeration to say that Summer had known the woman for over half her life. Summer's own mother had served as the late General's personal aide for much of Summer's childhood and early teen years. Strictly speaking, conversing with the old woman was almost as common if not just as common as speaking with her own mother.

On the other hand, General James Ironwood was almost utterly unknown to her. Summer had only heard the name in passing but nothing more substantial in that. And while he was the leader of the military and the Academy Headmaster, - far too much power for any one person to wield in Summer's humble opinion - he had to earn her trust before she shared _anything_. Yes, the man had ordered his doctors to treat her injuries and attend to her needs, but Ironwood had still locked her in this gilded cage. Not to mention that the man looked so high strung that hearing the truth of her experience would leave her in a deranged state and likely send Ironwood careening over the edge.

Summer's face scrunched in concentration, for a fraction of a second she let her concentration slip. But that slip was all that was needed.

 _Let go..._ The whisper was seductive, inviting. Disgustingly intimate as if whispered by a lover.

Summer felt revulsion to her very core at the sound. A woman's voice - _her_ voice - whispered poison honey in her ear. She grit her teeth and screwed her eyes tightly closed, mustering whatever scrap of willpower she could to fight off this invasion of her fragile peace.

"No." She growled, her voice strained with effort. "I deny you."

Summer could almost imagine Salem standing before her, a sickly pale hand cradling her cheek like a comforting mother. _It is all over. I am in your mind. Every defense, every resistance, every futile defiance you've ever made has crumbled to dust at my feet._

Summer's grip on her knees tightened on her knees to the point of pain. "Not. Everything." She snarled, beads of perspiration dotting her brow. "I deny you, and I will claw back _everything_ you took from me until my dying breath."

 _You cannot turn back the hands of time, Summer Rose._ Salem sounded more like a lightly condescending mother explaining a simple concept than the taunting tyrannical monster she was. _And above all,_ that _is what I took from you. But be honest with me, is that not your own fault? Had you not defied me, you would have been reunited with your family long ago. Simply give me what I want... you know her location. Tell me. And this suffering need continue any longer._

The words struck a cord in her. In that moment, Summer was almost utterly possessed by her emotions as a roar scream of impotent rage ripped from her throat. The fragile peace she'd managed to achieve in her meditation shattered like glass all around her. The rage made its way to the real world, where in her anger she kicked her side table. The kick was so hard, it warped the table's frame and send the thing clattering several meters away; sending reports, a book and a half-filled mug of coffee to the floor. The mug shattered and the cold dark liquid left in a pool on the titled floor.

Her chest heaved and she was on her feet, glaring down daggers through the far wall. Anger curled her fingers into claws and her heart thundered in her chest, hammering in a mix of rage and anxiety. Seconds dragged on into minutes and Summer struggled to get herself back under control. Her left hand reached up for the silver cross pendant around her neck and clutched it firmly. Both as an invocation of strength, and a reminder of the promise she had made to herself.

 _Get a grip._ She scolded herself sternly. People need you. _They need you to get healthy again, so you can-_

So she can what - Fight in a hopeless war of attrition? One where they're the losing side? The Grimm were endless, their Queen was physically immortal, and no matter how many immoral scumbag co-conspirators the Huntsmen and Huntresses slew, more would inevitably take their place.

Summer was torn. She dearly wished Qrow could be here; to help her get through this travesty of a situation. At the same time, she wanted him to stay as far away as possible. Before she left she was strong, she was fierce, a Huntress with few peers. She wanted that image to be what he remembered about her, not this weak pathetic thing she'd become.

She sighed heavily, leaning against her bed and holding the cross tightly in her palm, her desire for companionship outweighing her personal pride. Her mind went back to that drugged encounter, where Qrow stayed with her until she passed out from sedative. "I wish you were here right now. I just... need someone to talk to me; to tell me _something_ good happening in this world."

Her mind strayed to their daughter. Ruby, how was she doing? Gods, she must have been teenager by now, if not young adult. And what about Yang and Tai? Summer regretted not being there for either girl as they were growing up.

Before Summer could dwell further on all the things she had missed in her daughter and niece's lives, an all-too-familiar metallic clanking sound filled the silence. And that sound of the locking mechanism caused her anger to spike once again, albeit for different reasons than moments ago.

"Damn it all!" She growled, shaking her head as she heard the bulkheads surrounding the door open. The locks disengaged and the metal door shifted aside to let whomever it was in.

They must have seen her outburst on the multitude of surveillance cameras and rushed to administer medical aid or some such nonsense. Instead of allowing the visitor to ask the first question, Summer preempted them.

"Look; Just because I'm expressing my frustrations and anger openly _doesn't_ mean you have to scurry off to get a void-blighted syringe!" Summer threw her arms up in frustration, chest heaving as she did her best to pull her breathing under her control. Hands planted firmly on her hips and pointedly looking away from her guest.

"I'm perfectly in control of my faculties, thank you oh so _very_ much. And I'm allowed to express my vexed mood as I deem necessary. I'll clean this up in my own time. So why don't you just leave me in peace?" Summer huffed.

She heard the bulkhead close behind her, but no footfalls to mark the person leaving. Summer suppressed a groan and rolled her eyes. Fantastic, it probably meant her visitor was opting to stay in case of another violent explosion of anger. She could hear the person coming closer slowly, step by step. Summer frowned, she didn't sense any hostile intend, but -

"Personally, I'd rather just offer you a hug and let you vent. Going to go out on a limb and guess you'd prefer one too." The familiar raspy voice snatched her attention completely, Summer spun on her heel, eyes wide at her visitor.

Qrow stood on the far side of her bed, watching her with somber eyes. He glanced at the table and scattered materials, taking in the mess before he returned to her. His expression and tone were soft, "Did you have a bad dream?"

Summer, suddenly void of all her anger, simply felt tired. "...Aren't they always these days?"

"Maybe... but I don't think all of them are that bad." Qrow circled the bed and stood before Summer, smiling gently.

The Huntsman reached out to tentatively cradle her cheek, almost scared that she'd break into a thousand pieces if he touched her. His hands had a few more scars and callouses than she remembered, but she leaned into the warm palm. Summer mimicked the gesture, guiding him down so they were touching foreheads. She could feel the sting of tears in the corners of her closed eyes. His eyes also closed and they stood there in silence, drinking each other's presence in. Allowing themselves to fully appreciate that this was reality. That after years of separation, they were here and together once more.

"I missed you so much." Summer's voice was strained, tears running tracks down her cheeks.

"I missed you too." Qrow parted from her, brushing a feather light kiss to her lips before embracing her fully. Far too soon, they broke the embrace but still remained loosely in each other's arms. "Summer, we have a lot to talk about."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Summy-bunny, PTSD is a royal bitch. But hey, Qrow's there! And he's real!
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	8. Musing

"Auntie _has_ to be a sweet person." Ruby declared, nursing the mug of hot coffee as she and Yang walked about the perimeter of the outpost. The drink was sweetened to the point of obscenity by five spoonfuls of sugar and a healthy dose of milk.

Yang preferred the absolute minimum additions to her own coffee, simply opting for the barest hint of milk. She claimed that anything more would distract from the pure caffeine hit she was craving.

They were on their designated thirty minute break, halfway through a twelve hour rotation of guard duty assigned to the S.D.C mine out in Solitas' open tundra. Uncle Qrow was right, Atlas Academy was nothing like Beacon, especially since Penny had taken to waking them up at six in the morning exactly. While Ruby was a morning person, the rest of her team... well, _wasn't_.

In recent days Qrow had never strayed far from their gossip. In fact, since he had revealed the truth about his marital status - well, that his wife even _existed_ in the first place - this mystery woman had become a frequent topic of their sisterly banter. Lacking a better alternative, the girls concluded to simply refer to the woman as 'Auntie' as a sufficient compromise until Qrow saw fit to properly introduce them.

In their spare moments, they'd gossip quietly about it like an innocent little mystery to be puzzled out between them. Maybe it was rude to speculate on his private affairs, but it gave the girls a much needed and craved distraction from the monumental task ahead. And from the burdens of their daily life as Huntresses.

While Ruby considered this her lifelong dream, sometimes Ruby found the dream preferable. Particularly on those long supply runs that were composed of nothing more than torturous and mind-numbing boredom. She liked the runs where Penny accompanied them, where Ruby could catch up with her friend, once thought lost forever.

Ruby took a sip of her drink, signing in contentment as the warmth pooled in her belly and spread outward. She thought about the matter some more. Qrow had always told them stories about how he was distracted by an innkeeper's skirt length, or missed a blow because he was too busy showing off to an admiring lady friend. They were mostly taken as the gests they were, but Ruby couldn't help but ponder what kind of woman had completely snared their uncle. And what kind of person would make him fall in love so completely that he'd put a ring on her finger?

A darker part of her wandered that her absence was the reason for his heavy reliance on drink, but Yang's voice managed to cut that dark train off before Ruby could muse on it further.

"I don't think so." Yang sipped her coffee, allowing herself a smirk. "Nah, I think Auntie's gotta be tough as nails. A fighter, through and through. Someone with an acerbic bite that'd knock him down a few pegs whenever he got too uppity. You know what Uncle Qrow's like when he's got his mean streak on."

Ruby's lips pressed in a thin line and she sipped some more coffee, enjoying the warmth. "Maybe… personally, I just like the idea that whomever she was, Auntie was just kind to him. After everything we've heard about Oz from Jinn, and about Salem - I think he needs that right now, even if she's stuck in the hospital. And especially now, since he's quit drinking."

Yang brought the cup to her lips, her tone shifting more grave. "You think his wife being back in the picture means he'll stay off the bottle for good?"

"I hope so… or maybe - I don't know. Maybe I'm projecting a bit." Ruby signed, her shoulders slumping. "Maybe for once I just want to have a nice fairy tale ending. For one of us to have a happy ever after."

Ruby let out a slow breath, "Or I'm just being naive."

"I don't think there's anything wrong with looking on the bright side, Ruby. If anything, I'm glad you still can given everything that's been going on." Yang planted her hand on Ruby's head, giving her hair a quick ruffle.

The truth was that Ruby wanted them all to have that kind of ending. For Team RWBY, JNR and Oscar too. They'd all been through so much strife and change in the last year alone. Life changing revelations, death matches with mortal enemies and fate-of-the-world type disasters were running them ragged, and it was beginning to show on all of them in some measure.

It would be just great if they could just have their own fairy tale endings, or at the very least, have someone to show unconditional support and kindness through their adversities. Whether it was a partner they'd found along the way or some other figure in their lives that they could just look to for comfort without judgement.

General Ironwood was doing the best job he could given the circumstances and all the stresses he's had to endure, both on the political and personal fronts, but Ruby couldn't bring herself to trust him. Not completely.

As grateful as she was for the services his military had provided her and her team, the situation was… precarious. And the exchange wasn't one of unconditional support but of a bargain struck. He was the employer, they were the employees. He ordered them to do a job, and they were paid for their service with a licence, training and scientific research to improve their equipment.

Ruby consoled herself by remembering the fact that even if there was no one on the outside, they could still lean on each other for support. As Weiss said, they were a family, and who else could you lean on if not family.

"We're all going through rough patches right now, Rubes. Some of us are weathering it better than others," Yang put her arm over Ruby's shoulder and pulled her close. "But we've just gotta keep our chins up, grit our teeth and barrel on through. And no matter what, I'll be there for you every step of the way."

"Thanks sis." Ruby put her arm over Yang's shoulders, returning the hug with a warm smile of her own.

Yang's smile was dazzling and bright as the sun. Offering easy reassurance. It wasn't long before her joking mood returned.

"But she's _definitely_ gotta be a Huntress." Yang declared with finality, circling back to their recent favourite topic of gossip.

"Oh _absolutely_." Ruby agreed without hesitation, matching Yang's equally grave expression.

A few seconds passed before they dissolved into conspiratorial giggling, walking on to enjoy the rest of their break before heading back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yang and Ruby's new favourite gossip topic; Qrow's wife.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	9. Uneasy Anticipation

"So that's the reason why..." Summer muttered, her tone frosty and bitter while staring at her scowling reflection in the coffee. "It was a fool's errand from the word 'go'. I should've known better. Should've known things wouldn't have been that easy."

"If they _were_ , that mangy old bat probably would've been taken care of a long time ago." Qrow agreed somberly, sipping his own black coffee. "But, I doubt knowing that would've stopped you either way. It's just in your nature to try."

Summer made a small sound of affirmation in her throat. She was morose, and understandably so. The mess she'd made earlier with the table had been cleaned up hours ago, and the reunited couple had spent the time since talking. At some point, they had made some coffee in the small kitchenette and now sat together on the lone bed. There were so many pressing issues they had to discuss, but they were rather unsubtle in avoiding those matters. Thrown by the wayside thanks to harmless, humorous tales about Qrow's missions, misadventures... and their family's antics.

After so long talking about miscellaneous nothings, neither could really find much of an excuse to avoid the important facts any longer. So the conversation took a turn for the macabre, and the subject of the Grimm Queen made itself prevalent. Along with her connection to old man Ozpin.

Qrow found himself wrapped up in retelling the tale that the Relic of Knowledge had imparted to Team RWBY, Maria, Oscar and himself. And the terrible revelations that came with it.

"And that's why you said you knew, when I was having that little _episode_ the other day. You knew because you already heard the truth of it from a demigod's own lips." Summer concluded glumly.

Qrow hesitated, placing his mug on the side table and leaning back on his palms. "Technically a giant naked blue genie called Jinn if we're being specific, but, uh... I'm... honestly surprised you remember that. You were in such a state I was scared that you couldn't even comprehend I was here, let alone what I was saying."

"Which is why you left this with me, right?" Summer's spare hand reached to the pendant around her neck, fingers brushing against the smooth silver cross. Her spirits lifted slightly, only to plummet once again as guilt overtook her. "I thought that you left this behind because you _weren't_ coming back. That, through some asinine mental gymnastics, you thought you were responsible for that little episode."

"No. I'm not leaving you again." Qrow's took her free hand, squeezing it firmly. "Never again, I swear it."

She couldn't help smiling, feeling her heart flutter at the declaration. But it abruptly vanished. " _I_ should be the one saying that to _you_."

"For you to see me like that -" Summer cut herself off, shaking her head despairingly. She was utterly and completely ashamed of the weakness. Her eyes closed and she leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Qrow waved his free hand dismissively, "Nothing to be sorry about. Sometimes bad things just happen. But the smartest person I've ever met once told me that if you can't handle a person at their worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve them at their best."

Summer chuckled, rolling her tired eyes, "Why does that sound so familiar?"

Qrow released her hand and rested an arm over her shoulder, holding her close. A silence stretched between them before Qrow finally steered back to the topic at hand. "You know, you're handling all of this better than I did. About _her_ and the rest of it."

"I've known about… _her_ dirty little secret for - well, _years_ at this point, I think. I just lacked the context as to why or even how it was possible." Summer sighed, her mood dropping once more. Her fingers curled tightly around the mug as she tried to force down the rising crest of adrenaline. Having another person present, keeping her anchored in more ways than one, helped keep her centred on the here and now. Helped give her something to focus on. Summer used that to push down the rising panic and instead focused on an equally threatening but far easier to control emotion; anger.

A scowl etched her features. "The sanctimonious _pricks_."

Qrow blinked in confusion. "Her and Oz?"

"No. Well _yes_ \- but I mean the _Gods_." Summer clarified, sitting upright to look him in the eye. "For all their power and feats, they sound barely worth any worship whatsoever. They could've given _her_ any number of 'punishments' for her slight. When a child misbehaves, you take away their toys until they calm down and apologise, not make them utterly indestructible then declare them someone else's problem. For the creators of humanity, they have no clue how to parent their 'children'."

Qrow's gaze flickered downward before shrugging, lips twitching in amusement at Summer's rather blunt summary. "Maybe we should sign them up for parenting classes?"

Summer burst out laughing, a merry sound that broke the melancholic of their conversation. Qrow joined in, but it wasn't long before Summer had collapsed back on her bed absolutely guffawing. The sound filled the isolation chamber for a few brief moments before an unease settled over the pair.

Summer's smile slowly faded as she rose from the bed and replaced her used mug in the kitchenette's sink. When she returned to the conversation, she say herself down in the only other chair in the room, dragging it to the bedside to sit across from Qrow. "So shall we keep dancing around it, or are we going to discuss the _real_ Goliath in the room?"

"What do you mean?" Qrow asked, unconvincingly evading the question and her eyes for that matter.

"I suppose we're not, then."

Qrow buried his face in his hands with a bone-deep sigh, he ran his hands through his hair as his gaze returned to his wife. "Summer, I don't... I'm not even sure _where_ I'm supposed to start. How do I even breach that topic? 'Hey Petal. I'm actually your father, your dad's really your uncle, your half-sister's your paternal cousin and your entire family life's been a lie. By the way, your mother's still alive.'?"

Summer was stone faced. "You were clearly planning to do it at some point, otherwise you wouldn't have mentioned you had a wife to them at all. Besides, you yourself said you were sick of the lies."

"I am. Dear gods, am I sick of them. But-" He trailed off, shaking his head and refusing to meet her gaze.

"Severities should be meted out all at once, so that their suddenness may give less offense." Summer quoted the old author from memory.

Qrow signed, rubbing his brow, "Look, I appreciate a good Nickel Machiavelli quote as much as the next man, but we're not talking about a war front or some kind of political game, Summer. We're talking about our daughter and breaking the news that every parental figure she knows has been lying to her her entire life."

"Necessary lies brought on by circumstance." Summer tried to reassure him but he dismissed it harshly.

" _That_ is a slippery slope at the best of times" He warned. "And there's only so far that excuse can fly before someone calls bullshit."

"Regardless, there's a reason why the quote and sayings like it exist Qrow." Summer replied, leaning back in her chair. "It's because they actually hold a core of truth to them. Yes, upon hearing the truth, Ruby and Yang will be angry. They have every right to be for the truth cares nothing for what the human heart feels. But that anger and pain will subside and they will heal. They will be able to move forward knowing the whole truth of herself."

Summer reached over and pushed his chin up with a finger, making him look at her. Her hand moved to cradle his stubble-covered cheek. "Besides, if Ruby and Yang want to be angry, they'll have to be angry with all three of us. _Especially_ me."

Qrow's eyes closed in exasperation before frowning at her. "Summer-"

She lifted a hand to halt his rebuttal. "If I hadn't been captured on my last mission, would you have given up our daughter? Would you have distanced yourself from her life? Would you have made that sacrifice if I had come back heralding a victory for us all?"

Qrow bit his lip, refusing to meet her scrutinizing gaze for a long moment. "I gave her to Tai because I was scared that our enemies would hunt her down due to her connection to us."

Summer shook her head sharply, "That's _not_ the question I asked. If I had returned, would you have given her up?"

Qrow glanced up at her, her quiet strength showing through. He expected to see disappointment, anger, or anything along those lines for the choice he'd made, but she showed nothing. Just a silent determination to get to the heart of the matter. Gods, it'd be easier if she hated him for his choices.

"No."

"No." Summer echoed, "I understand the reasons why you did what you did. And as has been established, I share the guilt and blame in equal measure. Maybe even more so. But our enemies are _already_ hunting her down, because of what she did at Beacon and by virtue of what she is."

"I know." Qrow replied,

"If they want to lash out and be angry at you for shielding this truth from them, then they'll have to be angry at me too." Summer reinforced her point and offered her support by placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

"Their trust has been betrayed more than enough. I just don't want to add to it. I'm scared-"

"You're scared they'll lash out, just as badly as you did at the old man?" Summer finished with a look of grave sympathy. Qrow simply nodded.

"I don't blame you for doing it, if it were Oz - the Oz _we_ knew - I would have killed him with my bare hands." The bubbling rage under the surface was undeniably, but somehow Summer had maintained a level tone.

Qrow swallowed hard, uneasy. "Creepily casual declarations of homicide aside, it doesn't excuse me decking a pipsqueak so hard he's sent flying a dozen feet into a tree."

"It doesn't." Summer agreed. She cradled his face in her hands. "What we have to do is trust them. Trust that once the pain and anger have subsided, and cooler heads have prevailed, that they'll be wise enough to understand what we did. And compassionate enough to forgive us."

Qrow pondered it for a short silence before conceding. "Fine. When do you want to do this? To tell them about everything we are?"

"Sooner rather than later would be preferable. For all of us involved. The longer we tarry about, the worst it'll be for when the truth finally comes to light. And the less control we'll have over the circumstances, or in mitigating the damage it'll cause." Summer answered, then gestured to the walls around them for emphasis. "But more than that, I want to see my daughters Qrow. I can't stand that they're in Atlas but just outside my reach because of the void-forsaken cage. Its torturous."

"I understand. I'll do as you ask." Qrow gave a nod, placing his empty mug on the coffee table. "It's not going to be easy."

"Nothing worth doing ever is. We're both intimately aware of that fact." Summer smiled warmly, with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

"Then I suppose I should get things ready. I'll, um... I'll bring them by tomorrow after they've thawed from sitting on their asses in the tundra." Qrow decided with finality, but his reservations about the fact were clear.

She giggled quietly at the joke, "Thank you."

"Well, I um... I guess that I should get going." Qrow hoisted himself to his feet, "I have some things to figure out between now and then."

Summer reached out to him, taking him by the hand as he turned. "Qrow… this is the first time we've seen each other in years. I don't want to leave this on a dreary note."

Qrow returned to her, cradling her cheeks and gave her a slow kiss. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Uh... One last thing before you go. Could I ask maybe a little favour?" Summer tapped her fingertips together, mimicking the same gesture Ruby made whenever she was feeling bashful.

"Only a little one?" Qrow raised an eyebrow, lips pulled in a crooked smirk.

"Could I possibly maybe slightly bum some new clothes off you?"

Qrow rolled his lips inwards, holding back a childish bark of laughter at the rather colourful phrase and allowing Summer to thoroughly regret her choice in words.

She grumbled and hit his shoulder hard, "Not like _that_ , you dirty-minded prat. I was hoping you could buy me some clothes. Something a bit more flattering than... " she gestured to her Atlas-issued military Pajamas. "... _this_."

"I mean, you could always take those off. I certainly wouldn't mind in the least." Qrow suggested playfully.

"Qrow!" There was an edge of annoyance in her tone and he raised his hands in a defensive posture.

"Alright. Alright. I'll buy you something pretty… I just want to be sure; is it for every day or just _my_ eyes only?" He couldn't help teasing, nor the wide grin spreading ear to ear.

"... I missed you." She grumbled in the same tone one would declare their irritation towards another's infantile antics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qrow has promised to bring Ruby and Yang to visit Summer tomorrow. Whatever trails come for the lovely couple, they'll face together.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	10. Special Commission

"Silicon carbide ceramic matrices and laminates." Doctor Pietro Polendina explained enthusiastically. "Its sown between the fabric and the lining for that extra layer of protection. A last line of defense should the wearer's aura break and some pesky Grimm claws get a might bit too close. The same composite is used in all Special Ops personnel gear. And of course the new combat gear you and those kids are wearing."

Pietro's walking throne brought him past his desk to a large synthesis table in the far right of his laboratory. He pressed a button on his armrest and a holographic projection of the material overlay appeared above the large table. "Cutting edge body armour. And the construction allows for the possibility of dust infusion to augment the wearer's physical combat capabilities."

"Just the basic armour lining is fine." Qrow stated as he followed the man along, his gaze lowered to the fatherly scientist. "Hypothetically speaking; if I provide a design and measurements, how quickly could you throw something together?"

Pietro plucked off his glasses to clean them with a handkerchief he retrieved from his pocket. "Well, lad, its just a matter of putting information into the synthesizer's computer and letting the machine take care of the rest. There's no great magic to it, just time and patience. Nifty bit of convenience, isn't it?"

"They had nothing like this in _my_ day. Seems like a complete cheat if you ask me." Maria Calavera quipped from her corner of the room.

Maria was sorting through files or some other documents, placing them in draws and generally just organising the place. Her presence had become something of a staple in Doctor Polendina's lab since their group had arrived in Atlas proper. Something of a mercy since when the Huntsmen first saw this place, it was utter chaos. Qrow wasn't a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination, but when they visited this lab to submit their weapons for upgrades and tune-ups, the place was a jungle. Machine parts, tech manuals and all other sorts of knick-knacks were scattered about like a toddler's bedroom.

Truth be told Qrow was so completely tunnel-visioned on his commission request, that he'd completely forgotten the old Grimm Reaper was even there. He allowed a small smirk of appreciation towards the joke before redirecting his attention to the old scientist.

"Yeah, convenient enough. But how long would it take?" He asked pointedly.

Pietro replaced his spectacles and looked up at him, "Well, naturally it depends on how complex a build it is; how much material is involved, the measurements I need to adhere to. Determining the right sort of textile material the wearer is comfortable - you wouldn't _believe_ the number of Specialists in Atlas with a need for hypoallergenic clothing!"

The old man chuckled lightly to himself, about to give a rendition of a story he knew, but shook his head as if to physically rid himself of that particular urge. "Anyway, I need to make allowances to accommodate their combat style, while maintaining the structural integrity of the amour lining. Things like that."

"Its for a speedster." Qrow said abruptly, "She's about a head shorter than I. Classic Guerrilla-style tactics."

The Scientist perked up, "A speedster you say? Oh, like young Ruby!"

"Exactly like Ruby, yes." Qrow nodded firmly.

Pietro clapped his hand together with a grin, very pleased with that development. "Well then, that's half the work done! I can just reuse the material composite and the same armour ratios. All I have to do is resize it to match whatever measurements you provide and - et volia!"

The old Scientist looked up at the Huntsmen. "All things being equal, it should take me about... I don't know, twelve hours? Give or take, depending on how finicky the synthesizer is. This crusty old think likes to trip me up every now and again." He wrapped his knuckles against the machine with a merry smile to emphasis his point.

Turning serious once more, he stroked his chin in thought. "But I get the impression you're not just after combat gear, are you?"

Qrow shook his head, firmly. "No. I'm also after some weapons. I have a set of blueprints on my scroll. If you can, I'd rather you keep them exactly as described, but if you have any suggestions to help with aura channelling, then I'm all ears." He fished the device out of his breast pocket and held it up demonstratively.

"Aura channeling," Pietro let out a rumbling little chuckle that wasn't far too close to bittersweet, "Well, Lad. You certainly came to the right man. I know a thing or two about aura transfer."

"Anything's better than nothing." Qrow shrugged,

"Depending on the weapon's design and composition, I could suggest adding an ACU." Pietro offered towards the puzzled Huntsman.

Qrow tilted his head to the side, brows furrowed with the silent question.

"An Aura Conduction Unit. It acts as a storage chamber for the user's aura which can be expelled in a single more powerful attack, or used to passively upgrade the striking edge of the weapon."

"Sounds good, I'll take it."

"Fantastic!" Old Pietro all but cheered then leaned forward, "Now tell me - what kind of weapon are you looking to build?"

Qrow tapped a few keys on his scroll and it projected a small image of the blueprint.

"A scythe? No, twin scythes - A dual wielded variant. Well now, that looks like an intriguing build." Pietro reached out and manipulated the projection, enlarging regions so he could examine the finer details. "Yes... yes, I can see where - yes, I can work with this. I can even picture where I'd install the ACU. Transfer the blueprints to my terminal and I'll get started on the build straight away!"

At the Scientists request, Qrow placed his scroll on the interface port Pietro had indicated on the synthesis table. As the details downloaded into the on-board computer, Pietro summoned a holographic keyboard and began typing away, happily humming a jaunty little tune to himself.

"What's this all about, Qrow?"

Maria asked from her corner, as caustic as ever and the Huntsman was so lost in his thoughts that he'd completely forgotten she was there. Qrow retrieved his scroll after the machine chimed that the transfer was complete and made his way over to the old woman.

"Looking for a new weapon?" Maria cocked her head to the side, curious.

"Remaking an old one for someone I'm close to." Qrow admitted. He did not want to explain his true reason for being here, not to this woman. He leaned on the unoccupied desk with his arms crossed, and watched the scientist happily work away. The old man was lost in his own world and Qrow had to admit he admired that sheer ability to focus.

Maria gave a rueful laugh that grated on Qrow's nerves, "Someone close, you say. A girlfriend, perhaps? A wife... or maybe this some sort of gift for your daughter?"

In that split second, Qrow felt his blood turn to ice and his red eyes turned on the woman.

"Oh, don't look so petrified, for Pete's sake. It only makes sense after all. Why she looks up to you so much, and why you look out for her as vehemently as you do. I thought it was strange at first; but then you realise that it wasn't an uncle looking out for his niece, but a father looking out for his daughter. Looking at it that way, and all the pieces fall neatly into place."

Qrow's face hardened into a scowl. His grip on his arm tightened, his eyes slid closed and he groaned in frustration. " _Shit_."

"You really are so stupid sometimes. You couldn't have made it more obvious if you tried." Maria hopped off her chair and made her way over to Qrow to look him in the eye, her cane clanking with each step she took. "And I'm guessing that these weapons and special combat garb is for your mystery woman."

"My wife." Qrow admitted, not like he had much choice since the old bat figured out the truth anyway.

"Ruby's mother, I presume?" Maria asked,

Qrow only grunted in acknowledgement. He paused and looked at Maria, his mouth open to voice a stern warning but she had apparently anticipated this and cut him off before he could get a word out.

"Don't worry about me, boy. I won't tell anyone about your little secret. But you best do yourself a favour and tell her the truth sooner rather than later. The longer you wait, the harder it'll get - for _all_ of you."

Qrow's chin dropped to his chest and he glared at the old woman before leaving. "... Gods, you sound like my wife."

A bark of laughter followed him out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Qrow commissioning armour and weapons, and Maria figures out the truth.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	11. Denied

Underwhelming. So utterly and completely underwhelming.

One would expect an implicit challenge in infiltrating one of the Atlesian Military's most secured facilities on their home soil, especially after that thoroughly embarrassing fiasco at Beacon Academy and the consequent fall of Vale. Neopolitan was almost disappointed that this wasn't the case.

It was child's play to steal aboard that airship back then, easier still to dispatch the crew and release Roman from his holding chamber. But now? Making her way through this supposedly secure hospital for her target was even easier. Utterly disappointing.

Though, Neo had to concede one fact on this occasion. She had a rare and invaluable little cheat up her sleeve that she'd be remiss not to exploit. The guise she wore, the one of the Specialist Mary Reed, was a mute herself; only communicated through Atlesian Sign Language and an app on her scroll that translated those signs into speech.

After weeks of observation while posing as either a patient, orderly or even a clerk, Neo had memorized the routine series of signs Mary Reed made to access her charge. The woman was nothing if not a creature of habit. The staff were so used to her non-verbal communication that they no longer needed the translator. A fact that played right into Neo's hands today.

"Oh, Specialist Reed," The clerk had greeted at her approach with a mask of surprise on his youthful face. This was a new one, only a few weeks into the job and still very wet behind the ears, "You're a bit early today. I didn't expect you for another half an hour."

As she had witnessed, Neo made the same signs as Mary Reed would. She got barely half way through the first series before the young clerk had waved his own hand towards the hallway. "You don't need to do all that stuff. I know where you're headed and you know where the kitchens are. Enjoy your lunch - I heard your charge is in a good mood today."

S _uch a silly boy. So inexperienced. If he'd thought to question me further, he'd of likely blown my cover completely. Good heavens, does General Ironwood need more attentive security around his top secret playgrounds._ Neo mused, making her way down the corridors. _Any old assassin could stroll right in, pop a person's clogs and stroll right out again without nary a soul knowing._

Neo did not go to the cafeteria as the clerk had suggested, instead she made her way straight to her destination mimicking the same purpose and stride of the real Mary Reed. The isolation wards were some levels up, and she made a point of looking directly at each camera with a faint smile as she passed. This was going to be an extremely wet affair, and it would also serve to remove a player from the General's game board.

After all, how could a Specialist refute video evidence of herself murdering her own charge when the act was recorded by Atlas' own security?

The anticipation was palpable, and Neo felt her excitement growing in response. An excitement that reached its fevered peak when she had finally reached her destination. It was a dead end corridor with only one door on the right hand wall. Two guards flanking the door and the third sitting at the desk, tending to whatever task he was occupied with. The guard at the desk looked up, his head cocked to the side in confusion.

"Specialist Reed... isn't it a bit earlier for lunch yet?" He inquired, brows furrowing when he took her appearance in. "Where's your lunches? And your chessboard? Weren't you supposed-"

Neo only smiled with Reed's face before withdrawing the misericorde from her concealed Hush. The first strike was through the sitting guard's throat, and Neo felt a certain relief in the speculation that if this man hadn't possessed an active aura, then it stood to reason the other two guards did not. They had no time to react, caught off-guard by the sudden murder before them and Neo had no issue silencing them as well.

Thankfully, all she required to open the isolation room door was a key-card that hung off their belts. One copy on each of them. Neo would have tutted if she could, it was almost like they were deliberately stacking the odds in her favor. Plucking the steel-coloured print card off one of their belts, Neo ran it through the scanner and smiled a touch sadistically when the display flickered a bright green and the heavy deadbolts disengaged one by one.

Neo entered the chamber, a typically dull utilitarian place like she's come to expect from the military, and walked to the bed where the sleeping form of Summer Rose lay. Her steps were feather light, and Summer's back was exposed towards the door. The assassin drew her sword once again, pointedly looking up at the three surveillance cameras embedded in the ceiling corners. With her blade ready to strike, Neo raised it about her head with a sadistic grin and plunged the blade down into Summer's ribs.

A grin that faltered slightly when Summer did not appear to shed blood... Instead, she bled-

_… petals?_

The form shattered into hundreds - thousands of silvery-white petals that scattered and reformed into a mass behind her. A mere fraction of a second later, a hand snatched her wrist in an iron grip, the other was on the back of Neo's head, screwed in her hair and rammed her face straight into the cot's frame. Neo was stunned, both by the action and by the force of the blow right on her nose. The sound of rapid footfalls disappeared out the door and down the corridor. The assassin grit her teeth and started off after her target.

The second she crossed the threshold, a projectile nearly caught her head - nearly. It embedded itself in the metal airlock's frame and Neo realized it was a combat knife, probably one looted from the bodies of the dead guards. She went to run after her prey but stumbled to a halt before she got two steps. Klaxons blared to life, the overheard lights went out and turned emergency red. Neo spun to see the damage and saw the combat knife had wedged deep into the control panel besides the door, specifically the giant red emergency button, and she cursed. What was supposed to be a quick and easy mission just became a lot more complicated.

 _Well then. I suppose it serves me right for believing this would be easy. That'll teach me to be slack. Then again, if vixen Cinder had informed me of this woman's semblance beforehand, I would've known to prepare for a speed-type._ Neo started down the corridor, ducking a right to find the perfect cross section to cut her target off from escape.

"No... no no no, where's the exit?" Summer sounded positively frantic, looking back and forth, and clearly lost in the maze that was this hospital. "Where's the void-cursed exit?!"

_Foolish woman. If she'd just remained quiet, then she wouldn't have given away her position._

Neo followed the yelling voice to its source, seeing Summer Rose so completely stricken by terror that it made Neo almost pity the woman. Her head kept desperately turning back and forth between directions, the combat dagger she'd looted still in her hand, but her grip was so tight Neo could see blood trickling through her clenched fingers.

On a gamble, Neo revealed her presence by letting the tip of her umbrella click lightly on the ground, once. Summer spun and all but screamed in hysteria, stumbling back and in her panic, throwing the knife she held for Neo's sternum. The assassin dodged the blade easily with a simple spin. Summer continued to stumble back, chest heaving and breath coming out in short bursts. She tripped and fell, still scrambling away from her attacker until her back was pressed quite literally against a wall.

 _Well now, this is hardly what I'd call sporting. Yes, you managed to inconvenience me, Summer dear, but if Atlas security is still as lax as it was around you cell, I've nothing to worry about._ Neo mused, observing the clearly incapacitated woman. _How droll. She's already quite insane. Honestly, at this point it would be a crueler fate to leave her alive._

A smirk curled at her lips as she pulled the misericorde from her umbrella, the long cylindrical blade soundless withdrew from its oiled sheath. Neo flipped it in her hand and her borrowed visage wore a cruel smirk, poised for a strike.

 _I'm sorry to say, my dear, but this life is tit for tat. And your darling daughter took away my world, it's only fair I should repay the favour._ Neo plunged the blade down, mimicking the strike she made earlier when the older woman was still abed.

The next motion happened in a flash. Rather than pierce through her sternum and into her heart like she had intended, Summer's left hand redirected the stab in a flash, pushing the blade towards her right shoulder and through the wall behind her. Bright red blood pooled in her white Atlas top and the hospital wall behind her. Neo's eyes widened in surprise, honestly stunned that this woman had that much will left to fight compared to the shivering wreck she showed herself to be.

Neo tried to withdraw her blade, but Summer Rose's grip was unyielding. Neo tried fruitlessly again and again to retrieve her blade, each time getting more frustrated than the last. Summer's fingers curled tighter, and Neo saw her fingers begin trembling.

"I… _deny_ you." Summer's whispered voice was barely even that, but devoid of any other distractions in the hallway, Neo was perfectly capable of hearing it.

She looked up at Neo with tears born from fear running down her cheeks in rivers, her voice trembled with it. Every part of her screamed that she was afraid, but for the briefest moment, Neo thought her eyes were faintly illuminated by some sort of inner light.

Neo tried again to pull her blade back, but Summer's hand was keeping it steadfast in her shoulder. Her grip ever tightening and Neo could see the metal physically warping under her strength.

 _What in Remnant's name?_ Her frustration reached a peak and she was about to strike Summer's arm away with Hush's umbrella casing, until a ring-class fist collided with her right cheekbone.

The force sent her careening a dozen metres down the hallway. Her aura smashed down to dangerously low levels, and her guise gave away in short order. If that hit had been any harder or any later, her aura would've shattered completely. And probably a bone or two for good measure.

Her hetero-chromatic eyes pried open and she struggled to push herself up on her elbows to see her attacker. Her vision focused just in time to see the scythe wielding Huntsman knelt before Summer Rose to check on her. And the lower half of Neo's misericorde still wedged in her shoulder, warped and deformed.

After all too brief a moment, he slowly rose to his feet and turned his seething eyes on her. Eyes glowing the colour of blood that demanded Neo's life as payment for this grave slight. Qrow Branwen withdrew the broadsword on his back holster slowly, and the internal mechanisms clanked and rumbled lowly as the blade segmented and folded into a tonfa-like blade.

Neo felt fear lance through her core like a spear, mentally shaking her head at the situation. The same kind of fear she felt a year ago, when that masked assailant prevented her from slaying Ruby's idiotic wench of a sister, Yang Xiao Long. Behind her, Neo saw the flash of a camera and turned to see the true Mary Reed standing there. Casually slipping her scroll into her pocket and her finely filigreed bronze sabre leveled at Neo, ready to make a lunging strike from a classic fencer's stance. There was no possible way she could emerge from this battle without losing a limb… or her life.

_No, none of this please! I'll take my bow now if its all the same to you!_

While not broken, her auras and stamina were far too low to handle both of these foes at once. It had been a very long time since she had to resort to more generic methods of escape, but they still worked in a pinch.

Neo reached for a small canister on her belt as Specialist Reed speed forward. Neo turned just in time to see the blow coming and blocked it with the dust canister. The pressurized chamber ruptured and exploded steam-dust all over the corridor, blocking everyone's vision. Neo took advantage of the confusion and fled. Her mission... temporarily postponed for now while she reconsidered her options.

Neo also made a mental note to protest Cinder's orders. The foul vixen had neglected to tell Neo about Summer Rose's semblance, and now she owed her a new blade.

* * *

Mary Reed scowled as the smoke dispersed and their mutual shape changing enemy had vanished along with it. She grit her teeth and growled out in place of the curse she couldn't voice. What a dishonour. An absolute travesty. That her face had been used to kill her own charge.

Specialist Reed quickly turned to her scroll, and typed in a few commands. An alert to the security forces present and for them to put a warning. The general must know at once. Her concentration shattered when the resounding thud of metal echoed through the red-light chamber.

The large broadsword dropped to the floor, forgotten completely as Qrow Branwen knelt down before his wife. His hands gently on her face and clearly trying to pry her out of this latest episode with soothing words and reassurances.

Holstering her own sword, Specialist Reed quickly and efficiently tore off the sleeves of her uniform, tearing them into long rough strips and handed them to the Huntsman. He took one of the proffered strips and pressed it against the front-facing wound. Reed used simple gestures to ask the man to lift Summer slightly off the wall, wincing at the sudden scream of pain between the sobbing.

Reed had signaled the attending physician, Doctor Charron, for medical assistance and the man was already on his way.

In a time like this, Reed was grateful that there was someone who could speak present. While Summer did understand sign language, and they conversed frequently with it, her grip on reality was limited when one of these episodes struck. And visual hallucinations aren't uncommon either. They'd been making great progress together, but Mary knew Summer still had a distance to travel before she could even be considered anywhere near combat ready.

"Uncle Qrow, what's going on?!" A young Huntress's voice floated from the corridor and Reed watched what little colour was in his face completely drain away. A Huntress that looked like the exact clone of Summer Rose. She looked between all three of them for an explanation, her eyes fixating on the whimpering form of Summer Rose.

"What's happening?! What's-" Another Huntress demanded, a little older than the first perhaps, but with a wild mane of hair that must have been blonde were it not for the emergency lights tainting everything red.

Qrow looked between the two of them, face ashen and sketched by guilt, fear and a host of other emotions Reed couldn't even begin to describe.

Summer's identical younger doppelganger was transfixed. Slack jawed and Reed could see the slight glistening of tears forming in her eyes as her gaze zeroed in on Summer Rose.

"M… _mum_?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for this one being a bit late. Neo, while interesting, was a bit of a pain to write. Purely because I'm rather poor at writing combat scenarios and its very much approach avoidance at play. That being said, the cat's out of the bag. Mary Reed was a red herring and is completely loyal to Atlas, Qrow's enraged cause someone had the audacity to attack his recently revived wife, and Ruby finds out the hard way that her mother is still alive.
> 
> Ouch.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313
> 
> Edit: Here's a link if you all want a teaser for a few chapters down the line. :)
> 
> https://knightofacherus.tumblr.com/post/190996848580/


	12. Revealed

A greying doctor, some orderlies and a host of guards came rushing around every possible access point to the corridor. But the scene before Ruby and Yang would be forever burned into their minds. A far cry from the beautiful heroic huntress in the pictures on the Vanity in Patch, the living breathing Summer Rose in front of them was reduced to a shrivelled, bleeding weeping ghost of her former self.

The next moments were a complete and utter blur to Ruby. Actions all seemed to bleed together until eventually, a hour later she'd realised, she somehow found herself outside a patient room where the Doctor and his nurse were tending to the bloodied wound on Summer's shoulder. The military personnel had taken statements from Qrow and Specialist Reed about the incident, took the images the operative had on her scroll, scoured the security footage of that entire ward's surveillance system and issued a kingdom-wide arrest warrant.

Yang was seething, pacing back and forth while her clenched fists trembled with barely contained rage, her blood-red eyes glared daggers at floor. Ruby had sat down on a chair outside the open doorway, still trying to comprehend the sudden reversal of everything she held as truth for nearly her entire life.

Qrow sat on a chair across the doorway, elbows on his lap and head resting against his raised hands. The look of abject guilt hadn't left his face since Summer had been moved for treatment.

"That Ice-cream coloured bitch. Just what is she doing here?!" Yang hissed, her fingers flexing and curling into fists as she struggled to keep her anger in check but pacing out all her excess energy just wasn't working. "She was Roman's little sidekick, right? How in the hell did she know we were in Atlas? How did she even get here?

"She wants revenge." Ruby surmised, screwing her skirt in her fists. Her voice was quiet and distant, her eyes glazed over as she temporarily lost in that dark memory and its recounting. "The night Beacon fell, I was on top of General Ironwood's airship, and when Neo fell from the ship I fought against Roman Torchwick. He was killed by a Grimm while fighting me."

"That little runt blames you for her boss's death and thought she'd get even by killing your mum… how did she even know Summer was still alive…?" Qrow muttered a cuss under his breath, leaning back in the chair with a more subdued expression. Above all else, he just looked... _tired_.

"It was my fault, Roman was fighting me and for all he knew… Neo was dead after I sent her flying off the airship. He was furious, trying to kill me, and that Grimm... it went after him because of it." Even though they were enemies, and Ruby absolutely loathed him for the role he played in Beacon's fall and Cinder's plans, she didn't want him dead. She wanted him to face justice, not meet his demise.

"You didn't do anything wrong, kiddo. You were just doing what any huntress should have done; defending your home and kingdom. Sometimes... sometimes things get more messier than we'd like. Its just the way it goes." Their uncle told her, "If that idiot hadn't thrown his lot in with Cinder and her crew, Torchwick would probably still be alive, lifting purses or whatever petty crap he and his were keen on. Or, ideally, rottin' in a deep dark pit to be forgotten."

"Speaking of..." Yang abruptly halted her pacing in front of their Uncle and stared down at him with a furious expression. Her tone was razor sharp and accusatory. "How long have you known Summer was in Atlas? And why in hell didn't you tell us anything? Don't you think we have a right to know?"

Qrow was unperturbed by his niece's temper and met her gaze evenly. "I told you as soon as I found out."

"When?" Yang barked harshly, shaking her head. "You never said anything at all! The only thing you said was that you had a -"

Her words trailed off, her mouth remained slightly open as her statement came to an abrupt halt and the full realisation of her words struck home. Qrow lowered his eyes and looked away.

Ruby swallowed down the lump in her throat, and glanced at the older Huntsman. "Qrow, you said that you had a wife. We came here because you said she wanted to see us, and... and now, my mum is here - _alive_."

Her tongue felt like lead and the words formed in her mouth, but she found herself almost unwilling to voice them. "Does that mean ... When you said your wife, were you referring to mum?"

"You weren't supposed to find out this way. Summer and I... we'd-" Qrow ran a hand through his greying hair, eyes sliding closed in exasperation. "Your mum wanted to speak to you herself. She thought the news coming from her own mouth would lessen the blow of it. And then Neo decided to crash that particular party... Well, you know what they say about best laid plans and all that."

Yang stared at him, dumbfounded. "What?"

Qrow sighed and looked between the sisters apologetically before levelling his gaze on Ruby, "Why don't you ask me what you _really_ want to know, Petal?"

That nickname. Ruby recognised it, she remembered her mother used to call her that. And she thought Taiyang had too, but thinking back on it now, in that fleeting ghost of the memory, the voice was too deep to be him. Her fingers curled into fists, "Are... are you my father?"

"Yes."

"You son of a bitch." Yang cursed at him, low and paradoxically cold despite her searing temper. "All of our lives, you lied to us."

"I... didn't lie, I just never bothered to correct you." Qrow clarified.

Yang scoffed, rolling her eyes and had her hand on her hip. "Ya know, that makes you sound like old man Oz."

"Yang-!" Ruby protested, seeing the flash of anger on Qrow's face and the blood red in his eyes. Yang's words clearly struck a nerve, but as soon as it arose, he reeled it in.

"How could you think that was okay?!" Yang demanded, "Letting us go on believing that our whole lives?!"

Despite his obviously restrained anger, Qrow spoke calmly and sternly. "You _know_ the enemy we face now, you know the war we're fighting. And I've been on that front line of that war since longer than the two of you have even been alive."

Qrow shifted his gaze between his niece and his daughter, tired guilt etched on his face. "So yes, when I - when _we_ lost Summer I distanced myself from Ruby. I gave her to the one person I knew I could trust to raise her. If I hadn't, you would've spent your lives evading even _more_ Tyrians, _more_ Hazels, Cinders, and gods only know what other hell spawns that crawled out of Salem's domain. You would've been hunted for your entire lives."

He sighed heavily, "What I did-"

"Was mercy, right?" Yang cut in, crossing her arms.

"It was a necessity." Qrow offered his hands up with a helpless shrug, "It was a piss poor situation. My wife was gone - dead, we thought. One of the most powerful huntresses around was snuffed out. Emotions were running high, so I made what I thought was the best decision in that situation. In the end, I decided it was safer for Ruby to be as far away from me as possible. Between my semblance running amok half the time, my missions being as dangerous as they were and our enemies being… well, them. It just felt like the smartest thing to do. And if I ended up dead one of these days; you wouldn't have lost another parent… just a sad drunk uncle."

Ruby's brow knitted together in a dark frown. "You wanted to protect us from Salem and Oz' war, until we were strong enough to protect ourselves."

"Ideally until she'd been defeated, but ideals rarely measure up to the reality of a situation." Qrow rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension there. "And we all know Salem's not biting the dust any time soon."

Ruby rose to her feet and crossed the corridor to him. Her hands at her sides and her face a stoic mask. Qrow looked up at his daughter as if awaiting judgement.

"Thank you for protecting us." She said quietly.

Yang shook her head, unwilling to believe what she just heard. "Ruby, you're forgiving him?! Just like-"

**_SLAP!_ **

Ruby's hand smacked across Qrow's face so fast and unexpectedly, he nearly fell out of the chair. Yang's lilac eyes went wide, never expecting in a million years that Ruby would strike her uncle - her father - so angrily. Even her expression was the angriest Yang had seen it in a long time.

"I deserved that." Qrow nodded, raising a few fingers to his cheek and righting himself in the chair.

"You do! But not just for lying to us." Ruby agreed fiercely, glaring down at him. "I won't stand here and listen to you talk like your life's some worthless thing. 'Uncle'. 'Dad'. I don't care what you're called. And it doesn't matter either. What does matter is what you mean to _us_ \- Your life is precious to all of us! So, for Pete's sake, stop putting up this stupid self-depreciating garbage. No matter what you think of yourself, we still need you. Understand?"

Qrow honestly looked completely taken aback by her tone, not a shout or a yell, just an sternness. The same she took against him back in Argus. Once more, the Huntsman marvelled at how much his niece - no, his daughter had grown. Yang shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"I'm honestly so furious, I could punch you through a damn wall." Yang agreed sharply. "But there's a line between wanting to kick your ass for this, and wanting you gone. And you're an absolute dumbass if you think we'd be okay if you suddenly turned up dead one day. You've got way too much to do up for before we'll let you kick the bucket, old man."

Qrow stared between the two of them, awed. He shook his head, half in appreciated and the other in exasperation as he stroked his throbbing jaw. "You've got your mothers' tempers, the both of you."

Ruby suddenly felt her anger drain, replaced by an intense remorse. She pulled her hand back and gazed to the side, ashamed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have slapped you so hard."

Qrow waved her off, rubbing his reddening cheek. "It's okay, I had it coming." His tone was surprisingly light, all things considered.

"Need I remind you that this is a hospital and we expect our visitors to have a certain level of quiet and respect for the patients resting." The greying Doctor Charron was at the door, flicking off the plastic gloves into a bin just inside the room. "Keep up this unruly behaviour and I'll politely as you to leave. Or get the MPs to drag you by your heels if necessary."

Ruby and Yang peered at him, past him to see Summer Rose still being tended to by a nurse. The man was carefully putting a sling over her neck and securing her arm in place.

"How's she doing, Doc?" Qrow said, pushing himself to his feet.

"She's stable, for now. This is just a guess, but I think having a view over the city has helped improve dramatically. When security reviewed the footage of the attack and subsequent chase, we discovered that this latest episode was triggered by being unable to find an exit or an escape. Having a portal open to the outside world has helped calm her dramatically." Doctor Charron explained, clasping his hands behind his back as he peered back into the patient room.

Summer Rose had quietly slipped off the bed and walked to the window. The nurse on station watched her tentatively, asking if she required anything before taking his leave as well.

"Is she up for visitors?" Yang ventured tentatively,

"Ordinarily I wouldn't recommend it, but given that she's calmed down markedly, I am willing to make the exception." Doctor Charron answered, "We'll keep her in this room for monitoring for a few days as a trial to test my hypothesis. If my theory proves conclusive and her condition does improve, we may consider permanently moving her out of the isolation ward."

"You're not worried she's some sort of ticking time bomb?" Qrow asked in a lowered tone,

"Her first actions upon escaping her chamber was to alert security, and in my work with her, I've seen nothing to indicate she harbours ill-intentions. Towards the staff or the Kingdom as a whole." Charron answered, his lips pressed in a thin line. "And I have ample reason to believe if Huntress Rose wanted to escape, she would've done so by now."

Ruby watched her mother's back from their spot in the doorway while Qrow and the Doctor's conversation faded to the background. She could feel the sting of tears well up in her eyes. She'd spent so long believing her mother was dead and gone. There was so much she had to say, so much she wanted to tell her mother, and even more questions she had to ask.

"You girls go see her." Qrow's voice cut through her bubble of thought, and the girls spun around to face him.

"You're not coming in with us?" Yang questioned, her words barbed. "Wasn't she your _wife_?"

"I've already had my little reunion with her, I don't want to spoil things for you guys." Qrow explained. Neither missed the longing in his eyes at the woman before them but he shook his head of that. "I need to have a chat with Ironwood."

Yang spun on her heel, thrusting a finger at her step-mother's back and glaring at her uncle. "You're leaving after all the crap she's just gone through? So husband you are."

"I'd agree with you if I was leaving her alone, but I'm _not_. I'm leaving her with the best people I know." Qrow dismissed her concerns, offering a vague smile. One authored with a slight wince from his bruising cheek.

"Uh, but-"

"Petal... go see your mother." Qrow told her, "I'll be back to see her again later."

With that Qrow left them at a brisk pace, his face no longer marked by guilt but etched with determination. Left alone, the sisters simply stood in silence. The Doctor had vanished off to another patient presumably, and the young Huntresses were paradoxically at a loss for what to do.

"I guess... we should just go for it." Yang offered with a shrug and followed her younger sister's lead.

"Mum?" Ruby ventured tentatively, taking a few steps into the suite. Yang was at her shoulder.

Summer Rose stood at the window, staring out over the view of Atlas' lower levels. Her right arm was bound in a sling and the white pajama shirt was replaced with a black sleeveless top, affording the young Huntresses a stark view of the countless burn, cut and puncture scars that dotted her exposed skin.

"Mum, can you hear us?" Yang offered, a little louder.

Summer Rose turned to face them, tears glistening in her eyes even before recognition set in. "I, uh - I'm sorry." She quickly wiped away her tears with the heel of her palm looking out the window again. "It's just been… a very long time since I've seen my homeland."

Eventually, she turned back to the Huntresses waiting for her. "The more things change, the more they stay the same right? And you two… you girls have grown so... so much. I never thought I'd..."

Her words trailed off and she sniffed, swallowing hard, she offered her functional arm out. "I never thought I'd see either of my girls again."

"Mum..." Ruby's eyes screwed closed.

"Summer."

Tears spilling freely as both girls ran up to their mother, throwing their arms around her, determined never to let her go again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are... tense, but looking optimistic. And Doctor Charron is looking into getting Summer some new accommodations. After all, her first act was to alert security, not run like hell and escape the hospital like an enemy would.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313
> 
> As a treat, I invite you all to see Summer Rose's Rose Above The Clouds outfit located here:
> 
> https://knightofacherus.tumblr.com/post/190996848580/
> 
> This outfit will be debuting in a few chapters time. :)


	13. Discourse

Only with the greatest reluctance did the three huntresses finally peel apart from each other's embrace, using the silence that followed to take each other in. To drink in the fact that this was truly the reality before them. After so many years apart, the mother and daughters had finally reunited.

Ruby's tears flowed freely down her cheeks and she scrubbed them off with the back of her hands while Yang sniffled, her own eyes glistening with tears. Summer took a shuddering breath and a moment to really look up the children she had missed for so long. Her lips trembled and her hand went to her mouth.

"You've both grown so much."

It was all Summer could do not to let her voice break with the emotion.

"Y-Yeah," Ruby agreed, still wiping away the seemingly endless stream of tears marking tracks down her cheeks. Despite them, she smiled for her mother. "Yang and I, we're both Huntresses now! We went to Beacon together and became Team RWBY - i-it causes some confusion, I know. But we managed to stop some bad guys! We went on so many adventures and we're -"

Yang put her hand on Ruby's shoulder as the young Huntress forgot herself, gushing an absolutely incoherent mess of words that quickly devolved into sobbing. There were just so many things to say, so many questions that had to be asked, that they came out as nothing more than jumbled word salad. As her younger sister bawled, still intent on trying to get everything out, Yang finally allowed herself to shed tears. Summer closed the gap again, quietly shushing her younger daughter with a hand on her crown, smiling a bittersweet smile.

"Slow down, Petal. Take a breath and tell me everything. Everything that's happened to both of you up until now. We have the time, and I want to hear it all." Summer told them both, her silver eyes filled with the same maternal warmth as she looked towards Yang. "I want you both to tell me everything."

Ruby looked up at her mother, and despite the seemingly momentarily lull, her crying renewed in earnest. She threw her arms around Summer's neck, face buried in her shoulder as she sobbed.

"Such a crybaby," Her mother only-half teased, returned the embrace as best she could despite her injury. "You've always been that way. Even when you were little."

Summer glanced towards Yang with an expectant smile, "Are you going to let your little sister hog all of the attention?"

The blonde glanced between the two, indecision eating at her core before closing the gap and joining in the group hug. And Yang was the first to pull away a moment later, the tears gone and replaced with a stern inquisitive mask.

"Where were you?" Her words were blunt, not twinged by any emotions of anger like her step-mother had expected.

Summer's expression faltered and a haunted look flashed across her features before she coaxed it down, but not before her daughters caught sight of it. Ruby had parted from her mother, but still kept Summer's hand clasped in both of her own. The tears slowed to a halt while Summer bit her lip, feeling the atmosphere of their reunion shift.

"Mum, where have you been this entire time?" Yang asked, "Were you in Atlas?"

"That's..." Summer began, but she was lost for words as she glanced between her daughters. She swallowed hard, "Its... a, uh, a long and painful story I'm afraid to say."

"We have the time, a-and you can tell us everything." Ruby told her, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze and offering a smile that reminded Summer far too much of her father.

Giving a slow nod, Summer gestured to the medical cot for the teenagers to sit while she pulled up the visitor's chair to sit herself down across from them. "I, um... this is still very hard for me to speak about, so I might not be able to tell the full story. The truth is, I actually don't remember a good portion of it - but I can tell you what I know. Or try to at least, assuming my own blighted mind won't turn against me."

Summer glanced down at her palm, curling and flexing her fingers. "I suppose the best place to start is; what is your favourite fairy tale?"

"We know about Salem," Ruby informed her and instantly regretted her choice in words when they saw Summer visibly flinch away at the name. "Uh, sorry. We know about.. _her_ , and the Maidens and about Ozpin. But, we know maybe a few more things-"

"You mean the about the Gods? Light and Dark?" Summer supplied,

"Yeah, how did you -" Yang said but her mother simply shook her head,

"Qrow visited me yesterday. He told me the whole story that you witnessed from the Relic. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page before I began my tale." She explained, glancing between the two teenagers who shared a look at their Uncle's name.

"About Qrow..." Yang began but Ruby placed a hand on her wrist to stop her,

"Its okay. We can talk about him later. Right now, I want to hear about mum."

Summer exhaled quietly, her shoulders slumping. "Qrow told me he used the Fail safe, and that you didn't know about us. While I'm so furious I could throw him off Atlas' plateau, I understand his reasons. And he or Tai _never_ would've agreed to it if _I_ hadn't put the idea in their head in the first place."

"What do you mean by 'Fail Safe'?" Ruby blinked, shocked by the admission with her head quizzically tilted to the side. "And why would he have gotten the idea from you?"

"I _don't_ really think throwing him off the Plateau would work. He can turn into a bird after all. He'll quite literally sprout wings and fly." Yang joked halfhearted, but still perturbed by the news that their whole messed-up family situation could have come from Summer's own machination.

Summer blinked in surprise, "Oh, you know about that? Its not something he really advertised outside of STRQ."

"Wait - You _knew_ about it?" It was Ruby's turn to be surprised,

"That pain in the butt used to change all the time when we were at school. Used it to sneak out to the city at night. After we started dating? I lost count of all the times I'd find him taking naps in my hood... Jerk." Summer chuckled fondly, smiling as the distant memory played in her mind. Her smile vanished the instance she realized just how long ago that was. "That was a lifetime ago."

Yang threw her hands up, "Okay, I have so many questions right now; but honestly, all I _want_ to know is where were you? Why didn't you contact us? Let us know you were okay?"

Summer's hand clenched into a fist, screwing up the fabric of her pants. The minor lull in the tense atmosphere now completely gone as she refocused on the question at hand.

"Mum, your last mission. Was that for Ozpin?" Ruby inquired innocently, "Was that why you couldn't tell us where you were?"

"Yes, and no." Summer said after a long pause to gather her nerve. Swallowing hard, she looked up at that girls. "My mission, my _original_ mission, was never intended to be anything significantly dangerous. As far as Ozpin's shadow war was concerned. The previous Summer Maiden - Guinevere Borealis - was killed in the line of duty. A fierce Huntress who regrettably lose her life to a days long Grimm siege that leveled her home village on the border between Vacuo and Vale. Unfortunately, her charge and the successor of the Summer Maiden's power was killed in the same attack only a week prior."

Yang's lips pressed in a thin line while Ruby's expression was a mask of sympathy.

"I'm sorry to hear that." The younger daughter said.

"We live in a dangerous world, in an even more dangerous profession. Death is something we accept as part of our role in life." Summer explained evenly, "My assignment was to devise the location of the next Summer Maiden, to get a measure of her character and report my findings back to Ozpin. To let him know if she was willing to assist our cause."

"That sounds simple enough. What went wrong?" Yang crossed her arms,

"Its not a matter of what went wrong. Not there at least." Summer drew in another deep breath.

"So... did you find her? The new Summer Maiden?" Ruby asked and her mother nodded,

"I did."

"Then what happened?" Yang prompted,

"She was... she was a young girl, dying of a wasting disease in Vacuo's capital hospital. Naomi Lotus. Poor child was probably only twelve at most." Summer shook her head with great sadness, "Her poor mother... I - couldn't even _begin_ to imagine how she felt. I had two daughters sleeping at home in their beds, and she had hers at death's door. It was heartbreaking. I managed to confirm her power, spoke to her, offered her what little comfort I could, told her the story of the Maidens, tried to bond with her as much as I could before... well, before things took a turn."

Ruby frowned but then she and Yang simultaneously gasped together, exchanging a knowing look. "You were... you were going to-"

Summer simply shook her head, "I just wanted to do what I could to set her mind at ease before her passing. I spoke to her mother, offering my condolences and then reported my findings to Ozpin."

"Did... I mean, are you now-?" Yang carefully prodded, "The Maiden powers - they go to the person who was in the Maiden's final thoughts. Did you...?"

"I wasn't there when she had passed. After my report to Ozpin, I took my leave. And..." Summer continued and sighed heavily, leaning back in her chair as if the weight of her next words were crushing her. "And that's when things took a turn for the worst. I heard whispers that some nefarious dealings were going on in Vacuo, so I made my way to the City Centre. The best way to know a place is through its underbelly. Sa- _Her_ forces were gathering for something, and they weren't subtle about it either. Vacuo is a hive of thieves and scoundrels, one more group of thieves and scoundrels would go unnoticed."

"I went to stop their assault myself, with the aid of several other Huntsmen I managed to rally." Summer's fingers started to tremble and her eyes slid closed as the intrusive memories pushed to the forefront of her mind. " _She_ was at its head. The Grimm Queen rode to Vacuo herself atop some kind of... griffon monstrosity with a horde of Xerocole Grimm; Deathstalkers, Creeps, Armadillos and more Grimm beyond counting. It was a Level nine incursion."

"Wait... wait, I remember that event from Professor Oobleck's classes," Ruby said with a hint of triumph, "He said that the Grimm occupied the City for two weeks, but the desert environment, guerrilla style tactics of Huntsmen and the local militia managed to used the terrain to turn back the Grimm tide and restore the City. The Academy's vice principal was hailed as a hero for his battle tactics."

"But that's not the truth, is it?" Yang questioned skeptically.

Summer shook her head, feeling the crest of adrenaline rise in conjunction with her own anxious feelings but she pushed those aside for the sake of her retelling. "No. The Huntsmen I rallied... they were butchered. It was horrific. And the... _queen_? I was left alone to face her. I-I fought with everything I had. Everything at my-"

Summer liked her lips, and brought her closed fist to her mouth. Her heart pounding in her chest and tears forming in her eyes. Ruby and Yang immediately rose from their spots and crossed to kneel before her or stand at her side, their hands on her lap or shoulder offering silent support and sympathy. "I was captured. For... months, she... she wanted to know where the Summer Maiden was. And I _told_ her. I told her where Naomi was."

"You... _told_ Salem where a Maiden was? Does that mean she has the Vacuo relic?!" Yang sputtered and Summer shook her head, flinching at the Grimm Queen's name.

"N-no. By the time she found Naomi, the poor girl was already passed - and the Summer Maiden's powers were long gone." Summer chuckled, a bittersweet sound. "I knew Naomi wasn't going to survive long enough for _her_ to get her filthy claws on her, but she didn't know that. I made a gamble, and it paid."

Summer took in another deep breath through her nose, tears trickling down her cheeks. "She... expressed her displeasure at my little act of spite. A-and I spent void knows how long locked in and pried out of some sort of stasis device. They did... unspeakable things-"

"That's enough." Ruby declared, throwing her arms around her mother as the woman broke down into tears. Guilt eating away at her insides for making Summer relive such a painful experience. Yang joined in, their mother embraced between them as she wept freely.

"I'm sorry, Mum." Yang cooed quietly,

"We should've..."

"No," Summer cut them off sharply, her voice laden with emotion, "No. You needed to know what happened. A-and now you do... the cliff-notes."

They remained locked in that embraced, the two young teenagers sharing the burden of trying to ease their mother's pain. Minutes stretched on as the weeping slowly faded into silence. It was a mutual silent decision to pull out from their hug when the teenagers realised their Summer had calmed down enough, but they still kept close. A hand on her shoulder or her lap.

"So... what are you going to do now?" Ruby asked innocently, trying to veer the topic onto something more palatable.

Summer closed her eyes and then reopened them, affirming her resolve. "I'm going to do my best to recover from my captivity. And then, I'm going to re-enter this war."

"What?" Yang could only gape. "You've already lost so much to this - No one would blame you if you just walked away!"

"None of us want to lose you again, Mum." Ruby grabbed her hand in both of hers again, "We don't want to see you suffer, not like this! Not after what Salem's already done to you!"

"That's kind of you both to say, but where I like it or not, I still have a role to play in this war - in stopping her-" Her eyes screwed closed and she took a deep breath as if steeling herself to say the name, even when she did her voice trembled. "In stopping _Salem_. I have a duty that I can't just abandon."

"But you also have a duty to us!" Yang protested vehemently, "You're our mother, by birth or not - and we need you!"

"And the world needs _us_." Summer answered firmly, "It needs every Huntress it can spare, and I'm not the kind to sit idle while abominations are circling our borders."

Once more, Ruby and Yang looked at each other with undisguised concern. "But enough about this macabre train of thought," Summer ordered. "Tell me about the adventures of Team RWBY. If its you two, I'm certain there's all sorts of shenanigans you two got up to when your fathers weren't looking."

And so they did. Summer sat herself down on the cot, cross legged while Ruby and Yang sat on either side of her. Together they recounted their experiences at Signal Academy, Ruby's first encounter with Roman Torchwick that caught the attention of the then-Headmaster Ozpin who allowed her to enroll two years ahead at Beacon. Their teammates Weiss and Blake. But all too soon it seemed, the topic turned morose when the subject of the Vytal festival and accompanying events around the tourney were next in their recounting.

Despite the recounting of Vale's fall from their own perspectives, the schism of Team RWBY and the encounters along the way, Summer found herself smiling happily at the retelling of her children's stories. It was nice to know that despite the many upsets and trials they suffered, their team, their friendship and their sisterhood not only survived, but grew all the stronger for it.

"And when the train derailed thanks to the Manticores, we didn't realise this old lady was still on the train. She came waddling out with a cane and we were just... speechless." Ruby described the entire battle, Yang filling in the blanks that she had forgotten in her rush, Ruby jumped in her spot. " Oh, her name's Maria Calavera! I think you'd like her, Mum. And get this! She was a Silver Eyed Huntress just like you and me!"

"Is that right?" Summer managed a soft smile. "We're a rare breed. I'm surprised."

"Yeah. She's a pretty boss old lady if I do say so myself. Takes no crap or nothing. I think you'd like her too. She said that she used to be the Grimm Reaper."

In an instant, Summer's face completely blank went blank.

"What."

Ruby blinked, surprised at the sudden lack of expression. "She was the Grimm Reaper... or so she said."

"What."

Yang and Ruby exchanged quizzical concerned looks, wondering if she had lost her mind. "You oka-?"

" ** _WHAT_**?!" Summer incredulously squealed her demand, her hand slamming down on lap with a loud slap.

Ruby flinched and Yang nodded slowly. "Yeah?"

"Wait wait wait. Okay - let me get this straight," Summer inhaled sharply, her almost comical incredulity rising in parallel to her irritation. "Qrow was with you, yes? And he knew she was the Grimm Reaper. But when he visited yesterday he didn't think to bring me her **_autograph_**!? Oh, I am going to **_KILL_** him!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record? Casually retconning the shapeshifting into being a bloodline trait like the Silver eyes. Cause screw that whole 'magic came from Oz' thing, and I want Qrow to have something that he can own and take pride in.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	14. Negotiations

"And, exactly how recent is this footage?" General Ironwood's voice projected loud and clear in the spartan grey office, occupied by only a desk in front of the tinted window.

The aged woman sitting behind it was clad in a navy blue uniform accented by white and muted green. Her hair was tied back in a bun and the colour of steel with fading streaks to indicate her once bronze hair tone. Her eyes were dull purple and ancient scars crossed the bridge of her nose from the left cheek to right temple, tokens of a Saber swipe that caught her off guard after an aura break. The elaborately decorated rank pins on her shoulders marked her as an Admiral.

On her desk-mounted computer, she had a communication open to the Office of Atlas Academy's. General James Ironwood's live image was reduced to a miniaturised window in the corner while the larger screen was taken up by a live share; footage from a street camera showed a portion of Mantle's streets. Specifically, a small section of the road bucking, crumbling away to reveal a man sized opening. A mole-like Grimm with a hardened white carapace and drill-like nose slowly crawled out. It moved no faster than a casual stroll, but behind it Sabers swarmed from the opening in droves.

"Approximately thirty-seven minutes ago," Admiral Iris Thorne of the Mantle Navy answered her Atlas contemporary. "According to our sensor grid, the subterranean armour plating buckled in Sector 14 and the Grimm Crawlers managed to chew through and breach the surface level. Our forces were able to contain the incursion and seal off the area with emergency plating, but this is the third time this week."

"I take it from your tone that you're not contacting me just to report this quelled infestation?" General Ironwood asked wearily. At this time in the record, Penny Pollendina had appeared to quick dispatch the Grimm in a magnificent display of puppetry and sword play.

The Admiral shook her head, maintaining her professionally detached composure. "We've detected signs of similar failure across the foundation pillars in Sectors 3, 9, 15, 17, 23 and 28. And the first signs of deterioration in about a dozen other sectors."

"What exactly are you requesting right now, Iris?" Ironwood asked candidly.

Thorne's lips pressed into a thin line at the braisen use of her given name, but reminded herself quickly that this was not one of her subordinates but a individual of equivocal rank to her own. "Bluntly; we need resources. Or at the very least, some of your automatons to help man the defensive lines while our engineers assess the damage and sure up the city's foundations. Additionally, we need to reduce your supply demands by at least fifty percent to reach bare minimum safety standards across all foundation pillars."

"We can't do that." Ironwood said firmly.

"You do understand that if Mantle collapses, Atlas goes with us?"

Ironwood's brows furrowed - in annoyance Thorne had thought, but she also saw the tension in his posture. His clasped hands tightened just a fraction.

"I am not saying this to spout of some political propaganda or tired old rhetoric. I'm saying this because this is true, General." Admiral Thorne tried to infuse as much humility and assurance in her tone as possible. She wanted to avoid sounding antagonistic as much as possible. "Atlas and Mantle are a symbiotic circle; we supply you with rare metals, earths and other mineral goods, you supply us with food and livestock. We cannot exist without one another, and Mantle certainly _won't_ exist if the subterranean plates aren't properly serviced and reinforced. Lest our foundations buckle beneath our feet and we fall into the very mines we excavated to build the city in the first place."

Ironwood remained rigid. His brow knitted together and behind his composure, the Admiral could hear the anger in his voice. "Admiral, I don't think you understand the precarious situation we're in right now."

"Then explain it to me as one solider to another." Admiral Thorne pleaded.

"At this point, those details are classified and I'm sorry that I can't say anymore. Suffice it to say that what I'm doing is for the benefit of Atlas."

Thorne swallowed and resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she persisted and put a card on the table she had loathed to play. "Please re-consider your stance on the matter. _Before_ it becomes an issue set forward by the other council members."

Ironwood's voice was low. "Are you threatening me?"

"No, I'm simply saying I want to negotiate a resolution to the matter, or at least a stopgap that can satisfy both of our needs for the time being." Admiral Thorne answered curtly.

"You're not the only one who holds two seats at the Round Table, General. And I think you'll find that the other councilmen aren't as willing to negotiate as I am." Thorne leaned forward, her tone imploring. "Please, give Mantle _something_. Classified or no, my clearance is the same as yours - Give _me_ something. Anything. Anything you give me will go a long way towards helping me ingratiate you to the civilian population down here."

"I'm not particularly concerned with my public image right now, Thorne."

Admiral Thorne scoffed. " _That_ is a blindingly obvious truth, Ironwood."

A tense silence passed between the two commanders, Ironwood closed his eyes with a soft exhale. It took him another minute before he was ready to speak. His attention went to something off screen where he typed a few keys onto what Thorne presumed was a scroll. "I can spare a corp of engineers, and reduce the Atlas supply drain by twenty percent."

"I have no choice but to accept-"

"- _However_ , if you can provide volunteers; Machine operators, foremen, miners - we can reopen the S.D.C mine situated out in the Tundra on the proviso that the Altesian Military is given full jurisdiction of the Mine and surrounding area." Ironwood offered, " _If_ we can restart the mining operation there, we can help ease the burden on resources. At least as a stop-gap."

Admiral Thorne's eyes slid closed in barely disguised exasperation. "That would eat into vital manpower _we_ need to repair the subterranean plate."

Ironwood shook his head. "I never said 'civilian' manpower. Reassign a platoon of engineers from your Navy. The work may not be what they're traditionally trained for, but I'd like to think they'll be up to the task. But I request they have Sigma clearance or higher for the operation. The work I'm doing there requires nothing less, and I need complete autonomy to utilise your men as I require."

"I'll have to look into suitable forces for the operation." Thorne pinched the bridge of her nose, tracing the scars with her fingertip. "I assume with Sigma that enlisting aid from Jacques Schnee is out the window?"

"Admiral Thorne, be frank with me. Do you really want to deal with him?"

Despite herself, the Admiral snorted in amusement. "No, no - I most certainly do not. Very well. I'll scour my active duty roster to look for those with skills comparable with heavy mechanical duty."

"And in return for your assistance on this matter, I'll reassign a two squads of Mark Two Paladins and accompanying support units to assist in defense work, to take some heat off your repair crews. Per our discussion, you'll have authority within reason of their deployment."

Thorne gave a shallow nod. "Gods willing, that'll be enough. At least for now."

"Its the best I can do." Ironwood said sympathetically.

"Understood. Thank you for your time. I'll have my men report to the barricade outside S.D.C Mine in fourty-eight hours. I'll also forward a missive onto your adjutant when they're on their way." Thorne explained.

"I'll endeavour to meet the same time frame. Until next time, Admiral." Ironwood straightened his back in his chair and offered a crisp salute. The gesture was returned by Admiral Thorne.

"General."

The feed cut out and the transmission shut down. The hologram above her table disappeared and the room's lighting re-engaged, revealing two others standing in the room by the far wall. A civilian woman wearing a black business suit and skit combo with her light blue hair tied back in a short professional looking style, gold eyes and a pair of wire-frame glasses perched on her nose. The other was a man wearing the uniform of a Mantlese Commodore, his head was shaven bald and tattoos decorated his dark skin.

Admiral Thorne's fingers clutched in a fist that shook with sheer frustration before leaning back in her chair, her head resting on her raised hand as she sunk into silent contemplation.

"Admiral, I don't wish to sound insubordinate but... what if we told General Ironwood?" The man, Commodore Fenix Everest inquired, looking down at his commander. "If Ironwood knew the truth. Perhaps he'd be willing to reconsider our plans, and not so quick to-"

"No." The Admiral answered. Her response wasn't harsh or cold, simply firm. "General Palatinate entrusted this knowledge - this _burden_ \- to her adjutants. With Palatinate and Violet both out of the picture, the burden has fallen to me. And I will uphold it to the best of my ability."

The Commodore stepped forward. "Ma'am, with respect - Patricia Palatinate is gone, Violet Rose is gone. You are all that remains of the three pillars. And its not a burden you can bare alone."

Admiral Thorne looked up at him, her purple eyes narrowed skeptically. "Tell me something, Fenix. How can I trust the man when I don't even know whose side he's on. So many secret projects that he's neglecting to inform the rest of us. I am his equal in rank and position on the council, yet how do I know if he's really working for the betterment of our Kingdom? So far, he seems to be doing a far superior job at sabotaging it. We've spent more time in the past week torn between slaying monsters and playing 'cat and mouse'. Grimm are sprouting through our city like weeds and if things keep going, they'll keep coming faster than we can kill them. Then there's the matter of all the resources he's plundering from our stores to make his pet projects happen. How can I trust him on those facts alone?"

The Admiral stroked her forehead, "The Navy has already tapped out our own reserves to restore Mantle's subterranean plates. We've even tripled production on our off-shore supply rigs, but its barely enough. And that's taking into account the twenty percent deduction he's promised in his resource leech."

The civilian woman, Celeste Teale, finally took a step forward, her heels clacked against the floor as she did so. Her hands were clasped in front of her as she pondered her words. "Distasteful as it is, we may have made a deal with the devil Admiral."

"Yes, I know. But here's hoping we won't reach that point any time soon." Admiral Thorne replied, sighing in resignation. "It irks me that its come to this... By the Gods, do I wish Violet were still alive sometimes. If _she_ was sitting on the General's seat in Atlas like we'd all planned for, this would be a very different situation..."

"Admiral. I know you don't want to hear this, but perhaps we should put preparations in place so you may tell the General about the truth?" Teale suggested.

Commodore Everest nodded in solidarity. "If we are to prepare for the enemy outside our walls and the chaos that will come after, then we need to be united. And for the Kingdom to be united under a common banner-"

"I know. I know..." Thorne waved a dismissive hand. "I must tell the good General about Salem."

* * *

"You look like hell."

Ironwood chuckled wholeheartedly at the greeting when his office door opened, enjoying the first bit of levity he'd had all morning. "In polite society, we say 'good morning'."

He looked up to see Qrow Branwen entering his darkened office, uninvited as usual. Tapping a few keys on his desk, the windows behind Ironwood transitioned into their transparent form, letting the morning sun into the room. It took the General a second to adjust to the sudden brightness but only a second. He hoisted himself out of his chair and made his way to a small serving table in the right hand corner and poured two mugs of coffee, handing one to Qrow as he returned to his desk.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?'

"You were right." Qrow declared as he stood before Ironwood's desk. "Seems like Summer was stuck as Salem's house guest for the last fourteen years."

Ironwood muttered something to himself under his breath, "It's not a fate I'd wish on my worst enemy. That being the case, I'm confused why she didn't simply tell me this."

"And risk getting locked up in a loony bin?" Qrow shot back with his typical acerbic tone, shrugging and taking a sip of the coffee. He clearly found it to his liking and took a longer drink.

Ironwood gave him a look, "You mean, in addition to being kept as a semi-permanent resident of a mental ward?"

Qrow made a face and gave a conceding nod, "Okay, yeah that's a point. But she came back under the assumption that your predecessor was in charge. And how was she to know that you knew about Salem and her cronies? If it was anyone else and she told them the whole story - they'd probably strap her up in a straight jacket then lock her away in a padded room. 'For her own safety' or some bull like that."

The General pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a seat at his desk. "Thankfully we didn't have to resort to such... _harsh_ measures. As much as I appreciate the confirmation of our suspicions, I don't believe you came here just for that. So what are you doing here, Qrow?"

Qrow swirled the coffee in his mug before taking another swig. "Enough beating around the bush, huh? Fine then. I assume you heard about that crap show at the hospital?"

Ironwood nodded, feeling his stress levels rise just at the mention of that fiasco. "Yes, I do. Speciality Reed reported it to me directly, and we've already had our security pull the footage for signs of tampering and surveillance. It seems our mysterious assassin, who we now know as Neo Politan, thought she could sneak through our defenses by posing as one of our Specialists. The fact that they both apparently share the trait of mutism was a boon to her infiltration."

"How's your Specialist taking it?" Qrow asked,

"She is… _discomposed_ to put it gently. Those men who guarded Summer's door were members of her company. They served together for many years. Trusted her with their lives, and then Neo used her face to murder them all. She's less than thrilled." Ironwood explained. Qrow's lips pressed in a thin line. "I understand if, given the recent incident, you feel the security is lax. Especially since this entire situation could've been avoided had one person not waved her through."

Qrow merely grunted, "That's all it takes sometimes; One gullible idiot to doom us all."

Ironwood made a sound of agreement in his throat. "The clerk will be harshly disciplined - of that, I promise you. But I don't think that's the reason you're here either."

Qrow shook his head, "No."

"I also assume it has to do with the special weapons and equipment order you've placed with Doctor Pollendina." There was a sly smirk on Ironwood's lips and Qrow rolled his eyes.

"A'right. Here's the core of it; I want to get Summer back into fighting shape. With that in mind, I want to take her out of the hospital and get her onto the training floors."

Ironwood's mild expression faded, replaced with one of unyielding steel. Eyes narrowed at his compatriot. "And how can you be sure she won't turn against us? How do you know she wasn't turned into a sleeper agent so Salem could infiltrate our ranks? Like with Lionheart."

Qrow swallowed hard, his eyes lowering to the ground as he contemplated his answer. "I guess I don't know. She could be an infiltrator. Hell, she could be brainwashed to try and kill us all in our sleep. But given what she is, given the power in her possession, can we really afford to let a fully trained Silver Eyed Warrior rot away in a cell?"

"The potential boon does outweigh the risk, I'll grant you that." Ironwood conceded after a moment, "The problem is we still don't know the extent of the damage Salem inflicted upon her. Auditory and visual hallucinations are common symptoms, but we still don't know the full extent of her trauma. And we can't treat it if we don't know what could set her off."

Qrow listened and couldn't help but nod along with the points. He obviously agreed on some level but was persistent none the less. "Yeah, I understand that it's not an ideal situation. But it's what we've got. And Summer would never betray us."

"What makes you think that?"

Qrow shrugged, "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?"

"I'm not in the mood for jokes, Qrow."

"I'm not entirely joking." Qrow insisted, he downed the rest of his coffee and looked Ironwood in the eye. "Look, you don't know Summer very well so I'll vouch this. She may be a very jovial, sometimes downright adorable woman. But she is a _vengeful_ woman. Salem wronged her, and she'll want her vengeance."

Ironwood buried his face in his hand, rubbing his eyes as a wave of fatigue hit him. "As much as I appreciate the assurance, I can't help but feel you're allowing your personal feelings to get in the way of thinking rationally."

"She's my wife. Of course I'm letting my personal feelings get involved. And right now, those feelings involve getting her back into fighting shape so the next time someone like Neo comes waltzing past, she can protect herself without relapsing into another episode." Qrow admitted without shame. "She has an offer if you let her out."

"An offer?" Ironwood cocked an eyebrow, chuckling at the audacity. "How is she in any position to offer me anything?"

Qrow shrugged. "She said she's willing to submit to whatever precautions you consider necessary. But if you let her out of the hospital; she'll tell us where the Summer Maiden is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a bit of context. I'm taking a bit of liberty with Mantle and Atlas politics. So, we have the Atlasian Military Airfleet and the Mantlese Navy. While they are both armed forces of Atlas' Kingdom, they act like rival factions. Additionally I will confirm the entire election arc has been completely scrapped in favour of other plot lines I feel would better enhance the reading experience of RWBY V7's events. As showcased in the chapter, the Fifth (and technically sixth) Council seat is held by Admiral Iris Thorne.
> 
> Also, she knows about Salem.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	15. Meetings

Ruby had about an hour to spare before she had to report in for her next assignment. General Ironwood was assigning a contingent of his Paladins to Mantle's defensive line and he'd asked her team to act as escorts. There were reports of subterranean Grimm snaking about the city's lower levels, and it gave the team a chance to help bridge a gap between the sister cities. The Mantle Navy had jurisdiction over the area, and the General said this would go a long way to helping easing the tension between the two states as well.

In that spare time, Ruby decided to visit the hospital and see her mother and took a moment to reflect on how surreal that fact was for her. She still couldn't believe that her mother was alive, even as visits like this became more and more frequent. Whenever Ruby had a spare moment, she'd make her way to the hospital to visit. She'd share more and more of her adventures, complete with crazy sound effects and over-excited babbling. Sadly, the joy of her mother's return to her life was offset by a bitter taste in her mouth.

The truth was, since she slapped him and that first conversation with her mother, Ruby hadn't really spoken to her uncle - her _father,_ Qrow. Ruby had mixed feelings about him and understandably so. One on hand she was angry, and rightfully so, that he'd lied to her for her entire life. On the other, knowing the threat that they faced in Salem, especially now they knew she was invulnerable to any permanent damage or even death, it certainly did seem the safer, logical choice. But 'logic' didn't do anything to help the hurt.

Ruby knew that Yang wasn't taking this particularly well either. She'd thrown herself into her training and her combat style has certainly been more aggressive since they discovered the truth. More than once, Ruby had seen her temper get the better of her during their fights. Not enough to cause Yang to lose a fight, but enough that she was starting to make predictable mistakes.

At some point during their mission today, Ruby would pull Yang aside quietly and talk about it. Admittedly, they'd need much more than one talk to sort through their cornucopia of family drama, but it was a small step.

Part of her wondered if what Harriet had a point about the Ace Ops just being colleagues. Refusing to mix professional relationships with private friendship or even romance. After all, her family seemed to be more and more the poster children for why that line of thinking was certainly preferable. Ruby pursed her lip as she contemplated it. There were plenty of teams who had team members in relationships, but of course there were others who broke up the split second they could, content never to see each other again. Team RWBY itself had danced back and forth on that line in the last year or so.

She shook her head with a smile, taking to heart the words Weiss spoke to her father in their defense at the Mine. They were a _family_. And Ruby would do everything in her power to make sure nothing would break that bond between them.

"State your name for the record." The Hospital Clerk instructed sternly and Ruby leaned into the microphone pickup on the front desk next to the scanning device for her scroll.

"Ruby Rose…?"

A few seconds passed by with an affirming chime, "You're clear to proceed."

Ruby gave a quick thank you and took her scroll before making her way into the hospital proper. She had to stop herself taking the path to the isolation ward where Qrow had first guided them. Her mother had been moved to a regular patient's room with a more scenic view of the city at Doctor Charron's recommendation. When Ruby turned a corner, she glanced up and noticed -

"Penny!" Ruby all but cheered, jogging up to her friend who had been walking down the same hallway.

"Ruby!" The android spun around, greeting Ruby with a wide excited smile and expression that vanished into curiosity as she cocked her head to the side. "I didn't think I'd see you today. I thought you had a mission to attend to?"

"Yeah, I do. But what are _you_ doing here?" Ruby asked walking in step with Penny. "Aren't you coming with us? You're the 'Protector of Mantle', right? I mean, it kinda just makes you think you should be there to help with all the perimeter watch."

Penny nodded once enthusiastically. "Oh I was going to. But General Ironwood reassigned me to provide escort for a VIP. I'm supposed to take her to his conference room at Atlas Academy. Why are you here?"

"Oh, I'm here to visit my mum." Ruby had never thought to speak that phrase but the response came out so naturally she couldn't help feeling giddy.

"Your mother?" Penny blinked in surprise, "Oh, is your mother named Summer Rose?"

Ruby blinked in surprise. "Yeah? How did-"

"She's the person I'm escorting to General Ironwood." Penny informed her. "The General's preoccupied with coordinating actions across Mantle with Admiral Thorne, so he asked me and Specialist Reed to bring Summer Rose to the Academy."

"Oh... is it okay if I walk with you for a bit then?" Ruby asked tentatively.

"Of course!" Penny cheered. "She is your mother after all. And the General didn't say anyone else couldn't help us along the way."

Ruby chuckled quietly at the joke. Penny's jubilant mood slowly faded into something more quiet and pensive as they walked on.

"Ruby… may I ask you something?" She began.

"Sure. What's on your mind?" Ruby answered,

"What's... what's it like to have a mother?" Penny asked her friend innocently, there was a sadness to her tone that tugged at Ruby's heart. "I know many women who are older than me and take care of me, but not in the same affectionate way my father does. My research indicates they would be called 'sister' figures or just authority figures, but I don't have anyone that I could consider my 'mother'. So, I was wondering what it was like to have one?"

"I…" Ruby went to respond but found her words curiously vanished. She had no clue. She discovered her mother was alive recently, and was that even enough time to form a bond with her? "Its-"

"And why in **_HELL_ **didn't you get me one?!" Summer Rose's voice cut through their conversation, echoing down the hallway and around the corner.

The teenagers broke into a jog and rounded the corner quickly where Specialist Reed stood by the doorway with her arms folded and lip curled in amusement. The doorway had been blocked by a hard-light dust barrier and inside was Summer Rose arguing with Qrow Branwen.

"Is there something wrong? Do we need to separate them?" Ruby asked, silver eyes flickering between the Specialists and her parents in the room.

Specialist Reed wearing a cheeky grin, made a series of quick gestures to Penny Pollendina who couldn't help the tiny snicker as she translated. "Lover's spat."

Ruby was caught wrong footed. Lover's spat. Her silver eyes flickered downwards. She had to get used to that. "Well ... at least they're not ' _fighting'_ fighting, right?"

"Peace offering?" Ruby had never heard Qrow sound so… _scared_?

Ruby peaked around the corner, past the hard-light barrier that served as Summer's hospital door. Qrow had offered a hard plastic case to Summer who took it grumpily to examine it contents. Her grumpy gaze moved back to him.

"You may live... for _now_."

"Pardon me for breathing." Qrow threw his hands up while Summer placed the case on her bed, withdrawing a set of clothing it looked like. "But in all seriousness, Wax and Wane are ready as well. I have them stashed away in my quarters. You'll get them as soon as Ironwood gives us the green light."

"Thank you." Summer said in all sincerity. "It'll be good to get a weapon in my hands again."

"Uh, could I...?" Ruby pointed towards the hard-light barrier and Reed nodded once, pressing a few keys on the wall-mounted pad that shut down the barrier.

The sound of the generator powering down caught the attention of both adults who looked up in surprise to see Ruby and Penny standing there.

"Uh. Hi mum." Ruby waved awkwardly, smiling gently.

"Petal, come on in. We're just... _discussing_ things - maybe a bit too loudly." Summer cast a dark look over her shoulder to Qrow who winced before looking pleadingly at Ruby.

"Why, by all things sacred and holy, did you tell her about Maria?"

Summer spun and snapped at him. "You _still_ haven't gotten me an autograph!"

" _That's_ what all the yelling was about?" Ruby couldn't help the incredulous little laugh that followed her mother's indignant screech.

Summer adopted a tone of absolutely sincerity. "I'm sorry Petal, but we're talking about the Grimm Reaper. And more importantly, one of the best scythe masters ever to live. Its _very_ important business."

"You know, Crescent Rose is a scythe too." Ruby offered with a shrug, "Maybe when we get out of her we can train together?"

"You have a _scythe_ too _?_ " Summer clasped her together and absolutely beamed with joy.

Ruby nodded emphatically. "Yeah, Qrow trained me how to wield one. I think you'll like it. Its a customisable bolt-action high-impact sniper rifle!"

The smile vanished from her face and she cast another dirty look over her shoulder.

"Heretic." Summer grumbled under her breath.

"Vixen." Qrow muttered.

"Uh..." Ruby looked between the two adults, "I don't get it."

"Oh, I'm sorry Ruby, but its always - and I mean _always_ \- be a point of argument between your father and I. Which is better; wielding one scythe or two?"

" _One_." Ruby and Qrow chorused together without hesitation, Summer's nostrils flared as she played up her irritation, even affecting a false twitch in her eye. Enough to make Ruby giggle quietly in her face.

"Very well," Summer straightened her back. "I'm sadly out-numbered in this battlefront, but when I get out of here, I'll teach you both how _sorely_ mistaken you are."

"I missed you too, Shortstack." Qrow rolled his eyes at her.

"Huntress Rose?" Penny finally spoke up from her spot in the hallway. Ruby beckoned her in while Qrow watched, but Summer stared at her in fascination. Specifically her augmented leg attachments. "Huntress Rose, you're staring."

Summer blinked, having lost herself for a moment and smiled apologetically. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to gawk like a fool, but those are extremely fascinating prosthetics you have. I've never seen the like. Then again, fourteen years is a long time for tech to go marching on."

Ruby placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Oh, no. Mum, this is… This is Penny. I told you about her."

"The android girl?" Summer seemed completely taken aback by this, glancing between her daughter and husband both for some sort of conformation. "You could've fooled me. Well then, would you mind if I snuck a peak under the hood later, so to speak? I'm a bit of a weapon nut, and I've always been keen on the latest and greatest technologies."

"When the General agrees to give you the clearance, I could introduce you to my father! He's the one who designed and built me. I'm sure he'd be happy to tell you about my custom modifications." Penny offered happily.

Ruby suggested cheerfully. "Yeah, and Maria's helping him as an administrative assistant. You could meet the Grimm Reaper herself."

"Yes, dear. I'd very much love to. Especially because darling Qrow _still_ hasn't given me her autograph." Summer turned her face towards Qrow with an exaggerated false smile.

"Dear gods, kill me now." He groaned, dropping his face into his hand. Penny and Ruby couldn't help the conspiratorial giggle they shared.

"Huntress Rose." Specialist Reed's projected voice interrupted their revelry. "Please get changed. The General is waiting for us now."

* * *

"Penny. Specialist Reed. Huntress Rose." General Ironwood greeted them all in turn when they entered the conference room, standing by the window where he oversaw the southern quadrant of Atlas.

Specialist Reed snapped a crisp salute, Penny gave an enthusiastic salute of her own while Summer inclined her head politely. Summer was dressed in a black skirt and corset, black boots with silver buckles and grey tights. Over the ensemble was a hooded white shrug that extended past her back like a cape, and a crooked cross pendant hung around her neck. Despite her hands being bound in front of her with gravity-dust infused bolas, she looked every bit the Huntress she used to be and not the half-mad patient she was these past months.[ [x]](https://knightofacherus.tumblr.com/post/190996848580/commission-by-elleleh-please-dont-steal-or) "General. Thank you for agreeing to meet me. I wasn't sure that Qrow could convince you to let me out of my little cage but I'm glad he managed to talk you into giving me the time of day."

"I'm sure you can understand why we chose to keep you in containment. From what I've been told, you were Salem's prisoner for the duration of your absence." He didn't mistake the flinch in the Huntress' frame when he'd said the Grimm Queen's name. "As you can guess, we have no idea what she could've done to you, in terms of mental or psychologically conditioning."

"I understand that. And as a loyal citizen I have no choice but to obey the edicts set out by my leaders. Even if I fundamentally _disagree_ with their policies." Summer answered,

"Excuse me?" Ironwood raised an eyebrow at this.

"General Palatinate, Colonel Violet and Commodore Thorne spent their careers trying to _remove_ the Kingdom of Atlas from its militarized state. They were on the verge of succeeding too when I'd left this Kingdom." Summer noted, glancing out the window. A deep frown etched on her features. "And you've undone all their hard work."

"You do understand that we're in a time of _war_ , Huntress Rose." Ironwood pressed firmly, "A war requires a wartime footing. I'm sure you're aware of the chaos that's been unleashed since your fourteen years of absence. I'm sorry that the state of our homeland isn't to your liking, but we haven't the luxury of lowering our guard with the enemy at our gatse."

"But a siege mentality?" Summer gestured to the window where a good portion of the fleet is displayed. "Any basic tactician can tell you those kinds of tactics are ultimately self-defeating. And with all of your guns pointed outwards, how are you going to stop an enemy that's already slipped in?"

"You studied military tactics in your youth?" Ironwood pointedly questioned, thinly veiling his irritation at her attempt to school him on defensive strategy.

"I was studying military tactics and treatises since I was old enough to read. Believe it or not, but there was a time in my life where I aspired to be seated in where you are right now." Summer answered truthfully. "I mean no offense. I just... disagree with how the entire world is these days, I suppose."

Ironwood nodded gravely. "I suppose things changed."

Summer nodded to herself, almost remorsefully. "And mistakes were made that... somewhat removed that prospect from my future. Still, I can't really complain. Being a Huntress allows certain freedoms a Specialist doesn't."

"Specialists come with better health plans." Ironwood replied.

Summer laughed. "On that we can agree."

Ironwood made his way over to the long conference table, letting his hand rest on the back of the chair. He swallowed hard and considered his next words carefully. "Believe you me, I won't want anyone to be in my position right now. Times have been challenging for us all."

"A second point we can agree on." Summer nodded somberly.

"Please, be seated. I think we have much to discuss."

"We do." Summer agreed, dragging out a chair and sitting herself down. She spared a glance out the window.

Ironwood assumed his own seat, leaning on the table with his hands folded together. "First of all, I was hoping since you're feeling better that you could provide us with a complete debrief of your time as Salem's captive."

The General noticed her flinch again at the name and closed his eyes for a moment to think. "But first, I want you to tell me if _she_ knows? Does she know that you have the location of the Summer Maiden?"

"Doubtful." Summer answered honestly.

"And why do you say that? She has insidious methods of getting what she wants."

"I left her a false trail. I told her the location of the previous Summer Maiden." She answered honestly.

"Does that mean she already has the Summer Maiden in her control? Have you already given away one of your own charges to the enemy?" Ironwood's eyes narrowed as he spoke, his tone razor sharp. If Summer Rose had betrayed them, well... that didn't bode well for any of them.

"I said the ' _previous_ ' Summer Maiden. I said nothing of the current maiden." Summer explained firmly, "The previous Summer Maiden was dying of sickness at the time of my capture. I made a gamble that when I revealed that information, her death would have come and gone."

"A dangerous one." Ironwood noted grimly.

"But a necessary one, I'm sure you agree. And its certain to say the Grimm Queen didn't succeed in her goal. Otherwise she would've had the Relic of Destruction in her hand right now and slaughtering us all like the bloodthirsty psychopath she is." Summer gestured to the window, "Since we are clearly all still alive, its safe to assume that's the case."

"Which raises another question: After all of those years, how could you _possibly_ know the location of the current summer Maiden?" Ironwood demanded, "The Summer Maiden has been missing for fifteen years. Even longer than the runaway Spring Maiden. Where could you possibly have hidden her that Salem wouldn't find?"

Summer met his gaze evenly. "Tell me, General. Have you ever heard the phrase 'the best place to hide something is in plain sight'?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to me. :)
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	16. Strained Hospitality

Patch. Raven had forgotten how beautiful and blissfully quiet it could be. Perhaps a bit too quiet for her tastes. Still, sleeping in a proper bed with four sturdy walls in place of tent flaps was a welcome comfort, particularly as winter set in. The snow crunched underfoot as she casually sauntered through the lesser traveled parts of this island.

It had been years since Raven set foot on Patch, walked through its woodlands. Longer still since she'd worn anything beyond combat garb. No longer laden with her combat garb or battle trophies from her many raids, Raven wore a plain maroon shirt, dark grey pants, a grey jacket and laced ankle boots. Even her hair, once so elaborately decorated and styled to match her feral visage, lacked its typical flare. Cut to just past her shoulders and the lack of weight only accented its natural feather-like characteristics.

Mercifully few people lived out here and the fewer Grimm still made their presence known - something that confused Raven greatly given the amount of abominations swarming Vale and Beacon Academy. Seemed like Salem was either still looking for the relic, or gearing up to make Beacon her base of operations in Vale.

Raven had scouted the Huntsmen's blockade more than a few times in the months since she'd hidden in Patch. Vale's capital city and the areas surrounding Beacon Academy, even those outside the Huntsmen's isolation zones. The situation wasn't getting better any time soon, not with that giant Wyvern sitting atop the tower, nor the relic hidden somewhere within that damned place. While shifted into her bird form, Raven watched all of those familiar faces. Old teachers, classmates… - curse her, even old friends - were trying their damnedest to fight a war of attrition. It was… stupidly admirable. Or Admirably stupid.

Exactly what was expected of Huntsmen and Huntresses she supposed. Didn't change the fact that none of them could defeat Salem's hordes. Raven couldn't fathom why they even bothered to _try_.

But for the time being she supposed she was safe in the grand scheme of things. Salem and her cultist brood no longer had need of her. The only purpose of the Maidens is to unlock and guard relic gates - and the vault of the Spring Maiden was already emptied. In theory, Salem would have no further use for a Spring Maiden.

In spite of that knowledge, Raven would have left weeks ago had Taiyang not taken Omen and hidden it somewhere where she'd quote 'never find it until we've sorted this out' unquote. She cursed and howled at him for stealing her weapon, even going so far as to threaten retribution with her maiden magic, but Taiyang stood firm and wouldn't budge and inch. He never did where she was concerned.

It was moments like that which reminded Raven why she fell in love with him in the first place. Although, a tiny voice in the back of her mind chided her, knowing that Tai was right and if she had her weapon, she'd of ran off without a second thought. She cursed lightly under her breath, mildly irritated at how well he knew her.

It wasn't long before Raven emerged into the cliff side where the solitary epitaph sat. Summer's cursed rose symbol etched beautifully into the white marble with a line from one of her favourite poems written underneath. Raven would rather be skinned alive than admit this wasn't the first time she'd seen the tombstone, but this _was_ the first time she'd stood before it as her human self.

Since she'd returned to Patch months ago to hide away from the world, Raven preferred to avoid this place like the plague. It felt like its mere existence was a stinging wound to her pride. Now? She'd wandered about the island in such a way that she could almost convince herself she'd wound up here by complete accident.

Raven stared at the marble in the morning sunlight then scoffed as she approached. "You know, I never understood why people were so obsessed with markers like this. Talking to these things like they were the person who died. They're just stones. Stupid, useless expressions of vanity that say nothing more than 'I was here'. Its not like the dead can hear us anyway."

Her red eyes glared down at it, but for some reason, she couldn't muster any sort of emotional reaction to it. She was just... tired. Fatigued. Sick of the whole situation. Her fingers curled into tight fists as she scowled.

"I suppose _you_ would've said something like 'Don't worry, mum's got this', _right_?" There was an edge of bitter accusation carried in her tone towards the memorial stone.

"I always thought you had some idiotic messiah complex... or you just wanted to be a martyr. And look where that got you. Dead, no body found and just an empty grave to remember your existence." Venom dripped from every word and Raven felt anger bubbling at her core, quickly rising to the surface.

"You were better than me," Raven hissed, anger bubbling to the surface. Admitting that fact felt like a knife twisted through her guts. "You were always better than me. So _fucking_ perfect. So perfect you stole my brother. Stole my husband and daughter. Then screwed him to make one of your own. Do you feel proud of yourself?"

She grit her teeth as the simmering rage turned into a blazing inferno. Her tight fist slammed against the epitaph. "You're dead and gone. Dust and echoes in the wind, and I _still_ can't measure up to you!"

The cold marble didn't answer her. Its silence like a mocking sneer.

"Why!?" Raven's fist slammed down again, hard. The stone cracked under her pummeling "Why?! Why?! Why?!"

The epitaph chipped and bulked under her unrelenting barrage. The carved words and the rose symbol lost in the merciless destruction of the marble they rested on. "Tell me, gods damn it! Speak to me!"

A sudden burst of clarity pierced through the anger, silencing it. Raven stared down at the ruined stone, reduced to powder and rubble under her, shame lanced in her guts and she backed away from the marble like it would burn her if she touched it anymore. She... she didn't know what came over it. The object was just so viscerally offensive in that moment that she felt the compulsion to destroy it. She bit her lip and swallowed down the lump in her throat while cradling her dust-caked fist. Her next instinct was to run, flee the sight and flee the defilement of her former teammate's memorial.

Before long, her running took her back to Taiyang's cabin where she slumped down on the porch's steps and wept openly into her hands for Gods' only know how long. The tears were dried by the time she heard movement within the house and Taiyang obviously getting up for his morning routine.

"You know you can't hide here forever." The front door opened a short time after that, and with it came the delicious scent of bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs and coffee. She made no acknowledgement as Taiyang stood beside her on the porch, looking down at her expectantly.

"I'm not hungry." Raven lied.

"Of course you are. Now come on. Food's only gonna get cold and I don't have the ingredients to make another back without going to the supermarket." Taiyang ordered, leaning on the porch's railing with his arms.

"You know I could kill you." There was no real heat behind the threat.

"You could, but you won't." Taiyang shrugged, supremely unimpressed.

"Are you sure?" She prompted.

The Huntsman chuckled at this, more amused than irked. "Save the hollow threats for the cronies, Raven. We both know you're here for help."

"I don't-"

"Oh yes, you damn well do." Taiyang cut her off. "You came here after all these years 'cause you wanted help. Maybe even mend some bridges while you still could, even if you burnt 'em all down to the frames. Now get your backside inside, or I'll drag you to the dinner table kicking and screaming."

Raven glared up at him before hoisting herself to her feet. "You're an insufferable pain in the ass, do you know that?"

"And yet, you still came to me." Taiyang followed her inside, closing the door behind them. The table was a modest spread. Toast, eggs, sausage, some beans, bacon and a pot of coffee between the two place settings.

"Yeah, cause it was the only choice I had." Raven took a spot and Tai took the opposite place setting. It was surreal in a way, sitting down to a normal breakfast like this like the last two decades hadn't happened. But there was still a tension in the air. Of course there would be after everything that's happened between them. Raven picked at her breakfast, poking the eggs and bacon with a fork while lost in her thoughts.

"Was your morning walk that tiring?" Taiyang asked, mildly curious. "Or are you just planning on playing with your food until it goes stone cold?"

"I'm sure it tastes fine. Its just..." Raven hesitated, thoroughly robbed of her appetite. She had to start owning up to her mistakes, right? That's what Yang kept yammering on about anyway. And its not like the damned thing couldn't be replaced. It was just a stone, for gods' sake. "I went to Summer's tombstone."

Whatever attempt at jovial conversation died in Tai's throat and his face lowered. He couldn't quite keep the edge out of his tone. "Oh... that's a first. You didn't even show up for her funeral. I'm surprised you-"

"I destroyed it."

Taiyang stopped dead, his mouth slack and eyes disbelieving of the admission. That disbelief quickly turned to an unyielding fury. "You destroyed it?! How could you?! That was Summer's _grave_!"

"You've got some nerve." Raven growled under her breath,

"Excuse the _hell_ out of you?!"

"You're the one who cheated on me!" Raven spat at him. "How long did you wait before you jumped on Summer's bones after I was gone?! How long did it take you to move on?! Were you seeing her behind my back, because it sure as hell looks like it."

Taiyang grit his teeth, breathing out through his nose in a deliberate measured breath to quell his anger. "I **_never_ **moved on. You broke my heart Raven! I loved you with every piece of me. You took that, chewed it up and spat it back out."

Raven threw her arms up, "Oh, and I'm _sure_ our dear Summer Rose was more than happy to step into that void and pick you up again, wasn't she?"

Taiyang stared at her with a sudden blank expression. "You don't know, do you...? How could that even be possible?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "The hell am I saying? Of course you wouldn't know. You have such a self-centered streak, but I never thought you'd be so completely _oblivious_. It was right in front of you and you couldn't even see it."

"See _what_?" Raven growled.

"I _never_ remarried Raven. Summer was _never_ my wife. Ruby _isn't_ my child." Taiyang told her bluntly, Raven recoiled as if physical struck by a blow. "Summer was _always_ Qrow's wife, and Ruby was _always_ your niece. If you took one _real_ look at your own twin in these past twenty years, you would've figured that out on your own."

Caught wrong-footed, Raven tried to turn the tables on the argument but even that was of little success when Tai simply cut her off. "But she -"

Taiyang poured himself some coffee, heart heavy and emotion subsiding. At least, it appeared that way. "Summer stayed to help me because _you_ left me with a child barely a year old. And she was expecting herself. She wanted to be a good aunt, and wanted experience in taking care of young children for her own daughter. She moved in to help me because that's what _family_ does."

"That's why..." Raven whispered to herself, a realisation coming to the fore in her mind. "That's why Qrow refused to come back with me to the Tribe, because Summer dug her claws in and wouldn't let go."

Taiyang's fists slammed down on the dining table with the sound of thunder cracks, enough to make Raven jump. The surface dented. Despite his temper clearly rising to explosive levels, he spoke in a clear calm voice. "You're become a hell of a hypocrite since you've been away, do you know that? You keep saying how you hate how the old man used people - how Ozpin picked his favourite pieces on a chessboard and moved them about according to some grand scheme of his. But you're thinking the same damn thing. You're mad because Qrow found love with someone else? You're mad that for the first time in his life, he found people who unconditionally loved him for him in spite of his baggage and wanted his happiness? That he found a cause higher than himself and wanted to fight for it?"

"He belonged to the Tribe. We both did." Raven growled in her defense.

Taiyang threw his head back, guffawing as if she'd just delivered the funniest punchline in history. "So, way back when in our second year where you both confessed what your true intentions were at Beacon - and how you both wanted to do something better with your lives? Did you think you 'belonged to the tribe' then?"

"That's ancient history." Raven dismissed bitterly, "Times changed."

"No, I think times stayed exactly the same. I think you changed." Taiyang disagreed with a firm shake of the head. "You went from being one of the most dedicated, eager and _bravest_ people I'd ever met, to a two-faced coward with too much pride to admit that you're scared."

"I-"

"What happened?" Taiyang demanded, arms crossed as he looked at her. "I'll tell you what happened: You _choked_. You saw a foe that surpassed that little keyhole definition of strength in your head and assumed there was one point in fighting them. And you ran."

"How can you fight her? How could you possibly even think of standing up to her?" Raven asked, her voice frightful and small. "How could she - how could Yang be dumb enough to do that? To take the relic, to stand against Salem?"

"Because the only other option is to lay down quietly and die." Taiyang answered, his tone growing dismissive. "Which is why I'm so surprised. By your own quote-unquote 'ideals', you should just lie down and let Salem kill you. Why don't you just walk up to her citadel and knock on her front door?"

Raven gawked at him, horrified when he shrugged dismissively. "You're clearly not gonna fight her anyway, might as well make things easier for her."

"You son of a-" She grit her teeth.

Taiyang pointed an accusing finger at her.

"You see how fundamentally _stupid_ that line of logic is?" He paused long enough to take a sip of his coffee and another bite of his toast.

The Son of a bitch. He provoked her on purpose.

"Way I see it going forward, you have two options: Stay here with your head in the sand, pray to the brothers this all blows over and then you can run back to being a sad little queen of a sad little hill. Or you can go find your brother, daughter and niece, apologize for your actions and do your damnedest to help them as best you can."

Raven glared daggers through the table, her grip on her cutlery tight to the point of trembling. "They'll never accept me. Not after what I did to them, not after Haven."

"Well yeah - you hung them out to dry like a little bitch. But actions speak louder than words, and if you want to change, you're the one who has to make that first step." Taiyang lectured her firmly. "You're the one who has to take initiative on this if you ever want a chance of getting back into their lives again, if not their good graces."

Raven leaned her forehead on her clasped hands with her eyes closed, a new wave of fatigue crashing over her as Tai made his way out the door. At some point the mailman had delivered the morning post, which probably meant more bills or some crap like that. One of the things she didn't miss about kingdom life was the endless damned bills, leeching on whatever Lien she managed to bring in from one job or another.

A moment later, Taiyang returned sorting through the stack he had in his hand. "Bill. Bill. Bill. Ad. Bill. Ooo, Coupon! And - a letter from the girls."

There was a sense of trepidation from Taiyang. He was mixed parts hopeful and worried it seemed as he focused on the envelop stamped by a seal of the Atlas Academy. Peeling open the envelope, obscene amounts of hand-written pages half-exploded out of the tiny thing.

"Really?" Raven stared at the mess, supremely unimpressed before rolling her eyes and looking away. She couldn't quite hide the way the corner of her lip curled up in amusement. "Your daughters, alright."

"There's one from Yang, one from Ruby, one from Qrow and - wait, who's this from?" Taiyang flicked through the papers, reading the fourth author's contents. His brows furrowed as he continued scanning through the pages, only then did his face go pale as a ghost and his mouth parted in shock.

"Well...?" Raven was morbidly curious after seeing his reaction, frowning when Tai read the letter again in what could only be described as desperate panic. "Tai? Tai!"

"... no way..." He blinked, unable to process what he was seeing. "... No _fucking_ way."

Raven rose from her chair and moved to his side, reading over his shoulder as he examined the contents a third time. The letter spoke of captivity. Of horror, misery, slow methodical healing and a promise to return home. And she was seized by stunned disbelief when she read the authoring line.

_... until we speak again,_

_your loving friend and sister,  
_ _Summer_

"She's alive..." Tai whispered in disbelief, meeting Raven's gaze. "Summer's still alive, and she's in Atlas?!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now for something completely different. Long story short, I basically imagine Tai being a drill-instructor here, he's breaking down all of Raven's misapprehensions and lingering issues that Yang hadn't touched on during their fight so that they can work on building Raven back up again. Sure, she's done some unforgivable shit and she shouldn't be forgive, but she reached out to Tai for help, and that's precisely what she's doing in a language she understands... also, newsflash for them both. Summer's alive and kicking in Atlas.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	17. Debriefing

General Ironwood had offered a cup of coffee to the Huntress, and Summer took it with a gracious nod. He took a mug for himself, retrieved the flask from his breast pocket and poured a generous shot into his coffee. Though she lingered by the small coffee station, plopping at least five sugar cubes into hers with a dash of milk.

The conversation-turn-debriefing had moved from the Academy's conference room to Ironwood's private office. The aura-binding shackles removed from Summer's wrists and her escorts of Penny Polendina and Mary Reed were asked to remain at the door. Their standing orders were to ensure there were no interruptions The binding shackles were removed and escorts dismissed to stand guard outside the door.

The General circled around his desk and all but collapsed into his chair, taking a long draft from his coffee. A long tense silence stretched between the two, punctuated only by Ironwood gesturing to the guest chair across from his desk and Summer sitting down, coffee mug cradled in her gloved hands.

Ironwood took another slow drag of his coffee before mustering enough will to speak.

"She can't be killed." He repeated once more. Distant, Resigned. Rubbing his spare hand into his temple to fight back a budding headache.

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news," Summer offered consolingly. "But you needed to be in possession of this information before you moved forward with any other plans or decisions."

Ironwood glanced up at her, imploringly. Clearly he sought some sliver of hope from this revelation. "Not even the Maiden powers-?"

Summer shook her head quickly, once. "I only inherited them after I was captured by her followers. As you can imagine, I poured every scrap of willpower I had into ensuring they weren't aware of this particular fact. But more than once in that final battle of Vacuo - I removed her head from her shoulders, took limbs, impaled her and used every other power I had at my disposal."

"I can't believe it." He breathed, Summer certainly felt sympathetic towards the General. "Why would Ozpin keep this from us? The people who trusted him - were loyal to him."

Summer continued her tale, her tone distant and melancholic. "She quite literally walked it all off. My Silver Eyes managed to damage her to a degree, but even that little damage wouldn't have been enough to kill her for good. Perhaps if there were a thousand warriors like me that day - but... I wouldn't make any presumptions regarding the Maiden's power but given what she chunks of our moon literally falling on her face? I don't think a collection of parlour tricks will do much to slow her down."

Another tense silence passed on while the General digested what he'd just been told. He leaned against his office table, head cradled between his hands with his eyes closed. Summer simply sat there, occasionally filling in the silence with sips from her blasphemously sweet creation.

"Well…" Ironwood swallowed hard, uncertainty plaguing his thoughts when he spoke a few minutes later. "Thank you for trusting me with this information."

Summer fiddled with her coffee mug, swirling its contents while she pondered her reflection. "I'll be honest, General. I don't trust you." She admitted bluntly to his face. "But I will also make the caveat that I don't _know_ you well enough to trust you. However, Qrow says he knows you and trusts you. And I trust that man beyond any doubt."

"And in that capacity, I assume he's vouched for me?" Ironwood inquired, and the Huntress in white nodded firmly.

"Even if he hadn't, the circumstances are what they are. There is a fundamental requirement for you to know these facts. And we simply cannot allow secrets to remain so, especially when the fate of our entire world is on the line." Summer answered, she took another long draft of her coffee then spoke again. "Additionally, you're in total command of one of the two most powerful military forces in the Kingdom, if not Remnant itself if what I've read is true. In that capacity, you can only make informed judgements, strategies and tactics against the Grimm Queen if you're completely aware of all the factors in play."

"We can agree on that." Ironwood stroked his bearded chin, deep in thought. "For now, we will proceed with the current plan. The very fact of Salem's immortality changes nothing, we need to tend to our kingdom - our race. We need to restore communications with the rest of the world."

"I couldn't agree more."

Ironwood curled his fingers into a fist before leaning into back into his chair. His expression now an iron mask of stoicism befitting his position. "I'll need to have a _discussion_ with Team RWBY and their compatriots. Qrow, I can excuse because of pre-existing physical and mental issues occupying his attention - even if that excuse is wafer thin. But the teenagers? Did they really think hiding this from me was a good idea?"

She shrugged in response. "As you said, they're teenagers. They're at that age where they think they know what's what about the world better than the adults in it. They don't have the same life experience that you or I do and they're making emotional judgements based on a key-hole view of the world, rather than taking in the whole image of it."

His blue eyes met her silver ones, his expression unreadable. "And you? What's your stance on the matter?"

"Give them a good scolding if you must, but I won't abide you hurling them into a prison." Summer threatened firmly, then relaxed. "That being said, lying to the strongest allies you have is a thoroughly poor way to repay the generous hospitality you've been granted."

Ironwood pressed his lips in a thin line before prompting a new line of questioning. "One thing I'm not clear on. How were you able to hide the fact that Salem had the Summer Maiden under her nose all along."

Summer hesitated to answer, taking a moment to think on the best way to frame her words. "A mix of exploiting arrogance, gambling with time and… perhaps a little luck? But I do have a theory as to why she couldn't detect the Maiden's power in me."

"Oh?" Ironwood cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm not entirely sure how much you know of magic, but it tends resonates with itself. For instance, one blessed with the maiden's power can sense others with the same. As an example, back in the Military Hospital, I could sense the powers of another Maiden lingering near by. The Winter Maiden I assume. However, I have my own native magic on top of that; My Silver eyes." Summer took a swig from her mug, finishing off the brew with a sigh of contentment.

"How do your Silver Eyes factor into this?" Ironwood prompted,

"Like its written in the fables of the Silver Knights of Elysium, the power of my eyes - the imprint it's left on my aura - is so completely anathema to the Grimm. In my experience, they've sensed nothing but danger and fear of me and my kin. In such an overriding degree that it likely disguised anything else. In laymen's terms, they were so thoroughly disgusted and terrified by the very nature of me, they couldn't bare looking beneath the surface."

The General frowned, "So you're suggesting that your own Silver eyed power enabled you to hide your Maiden powers?"

"That's my theory, yes."

"A dangerous gamble."

"It worked. The Grimm Qu-" Summer closed her eyes and drew in a breath to soothe her nerves, "- _Salem_ had no idea. Otherwise she would've used that arrogant little whelp to harvest my powers long ago. And Vacuo would've fallen, the sword would be with the Queen and we'd all be scrambling for our lives."

"I... suppose that is the case. I thank you for the information you've given me. I'll…" Ironwood slumped back in his chair, "I _still_ don't understand why would Ozpin lie to us?"

There was no mistaking the bitterness in Summer's tone. "Well if he hadn't, I wouldn't have wasted half my life as the Grimm Queen's prisoner. But it's most likely because he feared our despair? But I suppose if we wept for every stupid decision ever made, we'd drown the world in our tears."

Ironwood let out a low rumble of a chuckle despite himself. "Hope can be a fleeting emotion, so I'll have to grant him that." Ironwood admitted grudgingly.

"True, but against an un-killable enemy? I prefer to rely on spite or retribution. There's scores to settle in more ways than one, and the Queen has to pay for her crimes. Even if means we spend the rest of eternity hunting her and her kind down to extinction."

The General stared at Summer, mildly perturbed. "Qrow warned me you were vengeful. Here I thought he was just exaggerating."

"I have had many years to cultivate a rather impressive grudge against my former host. You can't blame me for letting my temper slip up a litte, can you?" Summer asked, cracking a strained smile.

Ironwood simply nodded and contemplated his options. "In light of this new information. I'll need a united Kingdom, now more than ever if we're to survive this threat. And, while you're still recovering, I'm afraid I'm going to need your help to make that happen."

Summer cocked an eyebrow and tilted her head to the side. "My help as a Huntress, or my help as the Summer Maiden?"

The General rose from his chair and moved to the window, staring out at the vista of his city below. Beyond the edges of Atlas proper, he could see the outskirts of Mantle, the coast and the Mantlese Navy arranged off the coastline docking facilities. "Both. But I will also need your help as the daughter of Colonel Violet Rose."

"Excuse me?" What good would invoking her mother's name do for Atlas now?

"You are Colonel Violet Rose's daughter. And as you said yourself earlier, General Palatinate, Colonel Rose and Commodore Thorne were the Three Pillars. They kept Atlas and Mantle running in perfect unity and purpose for the time they were in power." Ironwood began. He was perhaps sugarcoating many aspects with the generalisation, but the three women managed to keep Mantle and Atlas in lockstep for the most part.

"They also tried to separate the military and state, but that plan went awry." Summer interjected bitterly.

"I'll have Specialist Reed act as a guide, but what I'd like you to do is take a Bullhead down to Mantle. You'll find that Commodore Thorne has become Admiral Thorne of the Navy. I want you to convince her to accept an invitation to Atlas so we can discuss… this delicate situation more carefully."

"Auntie Iris is the Admiral?" Summer blinked, taken aback. She stared down at empty coffee mug in her hands, her lips twitching up into a melancholic smile.

"I won't let you usurp the power of the Mantle Navy." She declared, rising to her feet.

Ironwood shook his head, turning back to face the Huntress. He circled around the table until he was toe-to-toe with the woman. "I'm not intending to do that at all. I intend to reveal the existence of Salem, of the Relics, to the Admiral. I feel that she is a woman of reason, good judgement and experience that surpasses mine, both as a commander and as a leader. If we are to reunite our shattered Kingdom, we will need the two most powerful armies in it matching towards one purpose."

Summer met his challenge evenly, the silence between the two stretching on for a long moment before she gave a short chuckle and her lip twitched up into a smirk. "Well then. I certainly can't refuse. Although she must be ancient these days. And I've been declared dead for years - If she sees me, her heart may very well stop."

Ironwood reached to the holographic interface on his desk and tapped a few keys to summon Specialist Reed from her post just outside. "I certainly don't want that to happen. Not while the Admiral's doing her best to placate the unrest in Mantle. I admit I don't much care what the people think in the moment. They'll thank us all when our work is done, but Thorne is also a deciding voice in Mantle. If she leads, the people will follow."

"And if she leads the people to your cause, they're more likely to fall in line. Heh, Auntie always did have that affect on people." Summer agreed, smirking still.

Ironwood nodded, glancing up just as his office door opened to reveal the brunette operative waiting on the other side. Summer replaced the coffee mug on the side table and excused herself. He gave one last request. "Contact me if, or more hopefully when, you succeed in convincing the good Admiral to meet with me. And then, we'll talk about weapon and training privileges, maybe even arranging living quarters outside a psych ward."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, ya'll guessed right; Sum-Bun is the Summer Maiden. And she told the big J about Salem's secret.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	18. Lines of Deployment

In the still of night, and silent as a shadow the White Fang agent padded through the darkened hallway, going unseen by a single soul patrolling the base. A feat made considerably more impressive by the presence of absurdly large bronze wings sprouting from his back. The cameras and other surveillance systems were almost trivially easy to disable - something he'll gladly report at the first opportunity. But that was also the reason why he was assigned to this mission in the first place.

Despite his rather conspicuous pair of wings, the White Fang agent was among the stealthiest faunas in the chapter's ranks. He was skilled in a great many areas they found useful. A disciplined warrior, a computer expert, a technician, a passable engineer when push came to shove. And most of all, an exceedingly competent infiltrator and assassin. It was these last two skills that served him best this night.

Despite the dim hallway, his eyesight was practically perfect in the dark and he'd even go so far as to boast of his eagle-like vision was superior in comparison to his more feline or canine faunas cousins. The Agent wore an easy smirk on his face as he found the location he was looking for, a plain looking metal door with black words embossed into a eye-level plaque. Bold letters that read 'Iris Thorne'.

Allowing his semblance to defuse the light and render him completely invisible to the naked eye, the Agent's fingers curled around the knob and silently turned. He knew the tumblers liked to rattle if jerked open too hard and he needed every advantage he could get against this particular foe. Inside the office was as dark as the outside and the faint sound of breathing drifting in the air. How conceited. It appeared the Admiral was stargazing before she drifted off into a light doze.

Oh, how the Agent would make her regret her lax guard. Slipping into the room quiet as a wraith, the door clothing just as quietly behind him, the Agent padding in almost ghostly silence.

Fingers hooking around the knives strapped to his boots and drawing them out, holding them in a reverse grip - poised to strike. He managed to get half way to the desk before-

"Icarus."

The Admiral swivelled around in her chair, elbows on the armrest and hands folded together.

"Bollocks." The faunas answered in amusement, the camouflage of his semblance shimmered away, revealing his frame and the pair of bronze-brown wings on his back.

"What gave me away?" Icarus twirled a knife idly between his fingers the way a gambler would fiddle with a coin.

The Admiral rose from her chair, circled the desk and stood face-to-face with her would-be assassin. Her face was a disciplinarian's mask but a playful edge to her tone gave away her true feelings. "In all of your years, all of your memory - when have you _ever_ been able to catch me off guard?"

Thorne's wry smirk was returned with a wide grin and a chuckle. Icarus raised his hands in conciliation before replacing the daggers off his boots.

"Apologies Admiral. We both know I can't resist a good theatrical performance every know and again," He replied carrying on with the same jovial voice before he assumed a more professional tone and expression. "You asked me to report to you immediately. I'm risking my position just by attending this meeting, however Commodore Everest said that you needed my aide, and my usual contact channels were too closely monitored by my 'companions'. The foreign ship landing in Mantle a few weeks ago really riled things up. Whispers of White Fang sympathizers even circulated among the ranks, got them all up in a flutter about."

"Mmm." Thorne made a sound in her throat in agreement. "Had I been given my way, those that infiltrated my City would've been locked away in a deep dark pit until this current world crisis blew over. But we seldom get what we want."

"I understand. What do you need me to do, Admiral?" Icarus requested.

The Admiral wasted no time in giving her orders. "The timetable's been accelerated. I would have preferred to stick with our original plan, but we've been presented a golden opportunity to quell the last dregs of this current insurrection. In twenty-four hours, two squads of Mark-2 Paladins and accompanying support units will arrive in the northern Mantle. I plan to have them at Supports 14 through 17. Your orders are to _ensure_ the White Fang makes a guest appearance. My brigs are looking _unbearably_ empty."

Icarus spread his wings proudly and bowed deeply to Thorne with a smirk. "I'll see it done, ma'am."

* * *

Weiss was quiet. Unusually so in the recent few hours. Her mind was preoccupied as they all awaited the transport on platform 3, located on the eastern half of the Academy. And she remained lost in those thoughts as they boarded for their next mission. An escort mission mixed with some search and destroy objectives down in Mantle's subterranean plate.

Nearly everyone was thrilled at the news when General Ironwood told them of the plan. A small but undoubtedly crucial step in repairing relations between Mantle and Atlas. They'd be working in partnership with the Mantle Navy's ground forces to clear out critical support areas of infrastructure for the Civilian Engineers. It was important, there was no denying it, but Weiss found herself too consumed by her thoughts to really offer anything than token appreciation.

"Weiss...?" Blake prompted when they were all in the transport. "Are you okay?"

Weiss blinked, taken aback by the question but smiled. One a bit too forced to be genuine. "I'm fine, thank you."

"Ya sure?" Yang prodded, leaning back on her chair with her arms and ankles crossed. "You've been awful quiet lately. I would've thought you'd be first on the bandwagon with this whole 'rebuild relations between Mantle and Atlas' project."

Weiss wrung her fingers, "I am. I really am. I'm glad that the General's taking great strides to help with the situation, but my thoughts are a bit... jumbled right now."

"Are you worried about Ironwood?" Ruby asked, putting a hand on Weiss' shoulder. A gesture that was returned with a smaller, more genuine smile that was a touch melancholic too.

"Yes... no. I mean, of course I am, but he's not what's on my mind right now. Its..." The Schnee heiress let out a short but hefty sigh, "Its Winter. She's... she told me something that has me extremely worried, and a little scared. Even if she says it _doesn't_ worry her."

"What is it?" Blake questioned, leaning forward with concern and interest. "Maybe we can help?"

"Its not a particularly a 'help' thing, so much as its-" Weiss hesitated, closed her eyes and mustered her nerve. When she spoke next, her voice was low. A whisper only for the four of them to hear. "Ironwood has chosen Winter... to be the next Maiden."

Yang was clearly about to let out a massive outburst, but quelled it quickly. Shooting a swift look at the pilots before leaning in close. " _What_?"

"Winter told me. Rather, she showed me the previous Winter Maiden just before we were called to this job. An elderly woman, her name is Fria. And she told me that until Fria dies, Winter's the only one allowed to visit her." Weiss continued softly.

"I suppose it make sense in a way." Blake offered, clearly unwilling to play devil's advocate here but she went on regardless. "A power like that, the key to getting the relics - it only makes sense that the General would want to keep it as close to him as possible. That's how the powers transfer, right? The last person in the Maiden's thoughts are who the powers go to?"

"I know that." Weiss' voice turned hostile and she snapped. "How would you feel if it was your mother?" She shot looks at her teammates in turn. "How would you feel if it was _your_ mothers? _Your_ sisters?"

Blake offered her hands in apology, "Weiss, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry, but I'm just pointing out that from a certain point of view - having someone as skilled and disciplined as Winter having, well, Winter would make sense."

"I know that, but it -" Weiss snapped but quickly deflated and sank back into her chair, "Its just difficult to think about. My sister is already a Schnee, already the right hand to one of the most powerful world leaders, and now _this_? Its just... hard."

Yang's gaze lowered and her lips pressed together in a thin line, a melancholic expression on her face. Blake glanced between Yang and Ruby. Their leader's own eyes lowered to the floor while she contemplated her next words after a long silence.

"I'd support her." Ruby offered eventually, all eyes turned on her in varying degrees of astonishment. "I can't say the same for anyone else, but if it were me - if it were my mum taking on the Maiden powers? Yeah, I'd be scared for her but I'd be _more_ scared if the powers went to someone who _couldn't_ defend themselves; someone who didn't have the years of training of experience or training that Winter - or even my mother had."

Ruby hugged her legs and rested her chin on her knees, her expression was one of deep introspection. "I'd be terrified of whatever scheme Salem would conjure up to try and get my mother or those powers, but I also know my mother has survived things I couldn't even begin to imagine. She's strong, she's fierce and she'll fight her way through hell before letting Salem come anywhere near her powers or the relics."

Blake and Weiss exchanged puzzled looked with one another while Yang remained silent, seemingly lost in her own despondent contemplation. "Ruby... I thought your mum was...?"

The question was cut off with the sudden rumble of the landing struts being deployed, along with a quick loud bump as the Manta transport touched down on the landing zone. The rear hatch door opened without preamble and Team RWBY made their way out of the transport. To the far side, they could already see the Paladins being unloaded from the larger bulk carriers and the support teams making quick work of the process with help from the green-clad Mantle Navy.

A woman stood to the side, older woman with steel-grey hair and an ragged scarred face, wearing a uniform decorated with rank pins. To her side was another woman dressed in civilian clothing, attending to her scroll.

"That's Admiral Thorne." Weiss identified easily.

"I guess we should at least introduce ourselves, right?" Blake suggested and the team made their way to the two commanders.

"Excuse me, Admiral?" Weiss began by way of introduction, interrupting whatever quiet conversation was passing between the two.

The old Admiral stared at them for a long moment, specifically at Ruby. And she paled as if seeing a ghost. Her composure recovered shortly thereafter with a little shake of the head and she returned to her stoic expression.

"Is it safe to presume you are the Huntresses escorting these units?" Admiral Thorne said by way of greeting.

"Yes ma'am. I-" Ruby answered in her cheery tone, which was abruptly cut off.

"Tell me what your operational plan is. I wish to know precisely how these units are being deployed. I also want a full tactical report on your arms, armaments and your understanding of the situation." The Admiral ordered sternly in rapid succession.

Ruby stared up at the woman, her mouth flopping open like a fish with a lump in her throat. She turned to her teammates who were all sharing equal looks. Before she could even begin to splutter out an answer to what little of that she understood the Admiral's thin lips twitched upward ever so slightly.

"I'm joking." The Admiral said in her brisk tone. She turned her back on her, hands clasped behind her to inspect the troops. "I suppose the Good General truly is scraping the bottom of the barrel if he's sending children to assist in this operation."

"We can handle ourselves." Yang declared proudly. "And we're not students, we're professional Huntsmen."

"That may as well be, that doesn't change the fact that you are all children. As I just said; scraping the bottom of the barrel." Admiral Thorne replied, her gaze on the support crews as the Paladin units lumbered onto a platform attached to the crane.

Yang's face twisted in anger. But Blake put a hand on her shoulder and shook her head. The blonde cooled off a little, still quite bitter at the derisive commentary.

"Teale, if you please?" Thorne offered her hand out and the smartly dressed woman with bright teal hair placed a Scroll tablet in her waiting hand. Thorne tapped a few keys and a topographic map of Mantle's city scale projected above the slate. She turned back to the team and manipulated the hologram. A large area outside the border of Mantle's city was highlighted with thirty-six small nodes. A dozen were yellow and six were flashing red with caution indicators flashing on them.

"This is the Subterranean plate in conjunction with the City of Mantle, itself." Thorne explained to the Huntresses. She raised a pointed finger and circled four nodes separated by a green node. A white line traced her finger's path. "At this time, we'll focus our repair efforts on Support Pillars 14, 15 and 17. They're within five kilometres of each other. We also had a Grimm incursion in sector 14 not two days ago, so be prepared for combat. While you're tracking back and forth between these two sites, I would also have you escort a cadre of civilian engineers to Support 16."

She emphasized her point by tapping the centre node of the cluster. "With the two adjacent supports in need of critical assessment, maintenance and repair, we need to inspect 16. Ensure it hasn't suffered any signs of damage. I anticipate it has signs of deterioration given its had to bear the weight of its adjacent supports. And if so, we have to effect quick field repairs. These repairs could take anywhere between thirty minutes to thirty days depending on the damage location and type."

"That's awful. How did Mantle get this bad?" Weiss piped up, unable to help herself.

"Scheming back-stabbers, money-grubbers and ass-lickers like your father." Teale stated brusquely.

Weiss winced at this comment. Yang looked ready to pummel the civilian into the dirt.

"Secretary." Thorne said coolly.

"Apologies, Admiral."

"My Secretary's _passions_ aside, that's what it boils down to. Greedy people burying their heads in the snow, until the situation becomes so untenable the consequences are slapping them in the face with a dead mackerel." Thorne continued in her professional manner, she returned the scroll to her adjutant and clasped her hands behind her back. "That's all. You're dismissed."

"Wha-" Yang sputtered out, "That's _it_?"

"I've given you an overview of the situation, told you to expect company and outlined the tasks you need to achieve. I've given you everything you need to know." The Admiral answered back coolly.

"With all due respect Admiral, where would you like us to deploy? Do you have any suggestions about how we should patrol these sights. There's only four of us-"

"Four of you and six paladins units. In the right commander's hands, those tools could topple a _nation_. Patrolling a five kilometre area is child's play compared to that." The Admiral lectured. "You claim with pride that you are licenced Huntresses and that you can handle yourselves. I expect you not to eat those words."

With that, the old Admiral departed with her secretary in tow, leaving Team RWBY in stunned silence.

"Wow. She's... kind of a bitch." Yang commented, glaring at her back. She immediately jumped in fright when she heard the Admiral's voice call out.

"I can still hear you. _Get to work!_ "

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Thorne has someone on the inside of Atlas' White Fang chapter. Wonder who this Icarus is?
> 
> Also, shameless self promo: Check out my new Mermaid Hummingbird AU called 'Beneath the Tides'! https://archiveofourown.org/works/23375668/chapters/56009812
> 
> Please support my brainchildren. They keep me sane during my work from home hours. :3
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	19. Conversations

"Do you recall the last time I saw you?" Admiral Thorne's voice was thoroughly reproachful, as though lecturing a misbehaving ten year old than the fully grown Huntress who stood before her.

They were standing in a briefing room adjacent to the two-tier control centre. Upon learning that she had a guest, Admiral Thorne almost barked an order to send them away while her attention was focused on overseeing the deployment of units in Mantle's foundation plates. That order died in her throat when she discovered precisely who the guest was.

Delegating the task to Teale, a skilled logistician and her right hand, Thorne invited the Huntress into the briefing room while the mute specialist waited outside. It was almost look she was looking at a ghost. And when Summer Rose gave no answer, Thorne continued with her interrogation.

"The last time I saw you, you were being shipped off to Vale with your father to avoid charges of assault." Thorne circled the central control console, her tone reproachful and stern. "On a fourteen year old girl as I recall."

"I was fourteen too." Summer Rose was regretful but only to a point.

"And, many years on, do you still believe your actions were worth it? Justified even?" Thorne pressed, her scarred brow furrowing into a dark scowl.

Summer simply stared back at her, confident and defiant. "Do I regret what happened because of my grief? Yes. Do I regret the consequences it had for my mother? Of course. But I'm not going to stand here and pretend that beating up a pretentious racist little _shit_ who laughed at my family tragedy is anything other than a good thing."

Thorne allowed herself a small smirk. "I see there's still something of the wolf in you, girl. Your time away has done little to quell that fire."

"I'm my mother's daughter after all." Summer shrugged lightly.

"That you are. A bane and a boon if ever there was one." Thorne agreed solemnly with a nod. It was now she turned to face the Huntress in white, her eyes narrowed before she offered her arms out. "Its been a long time, pup."

Summer crossed the room and embraced her with a melancholic smile. Only with the greatest reluctant did Thorne peel away, her aged craggy hand cupping Summer's cheek as the Admiral appraised her with softer eyes. "We thought you'd died. Your mother was heartbroken."

"Mother... still thought of me?" Summer blinked, astonished to hear this news. Her silver eyes fell to the floor. "I... sent letters, but I never received a reply. I just assumed mother threw them out before she even read them."

"Oh no. She read them alright. Every single one of them." Thorne declared, shaking her head in bemusement. She raised an eyebrow and her lips curled into a smirk. "... but, a _bandit_?"

Summer blinked in surprise, "Excuse me?"

"You married a bandit?" Thorne clarified.

Summer scowled then crossed her arms in a huff. "Ex-bandit, thank you _very_ much. He's a licensed Huntsman, he's a good person, a good husband and a better father."

The admiral couldn't help herself, and let out a short chortle. "I'm sure he is. Forgive me, Pup. I couldn't resist a tease. Violet and I had a running bet when she heard you were getting married to that young man. She didn't think the marriage would last a year, I disagreed."

"You were betting on my relationships?!" Summer accused,

"Playfully, I assure you. And I won after you wrote Violet to inform her of your pregnancy." Thorne informed her kindly, "And the pictures of the babe, why, I could scarcely believe it when that same little rose bud showed up just this morning for escort duty."

Summer blinked in surprise then smiled softly. "So, you've already met her?"

Thorne nodded, "The girl, Ruby Rose? Of course I have, when I saw her it was unmistakable that she was your daughter. The hair, the eyes, even that ridiculous choice in weapon."

Summer's brow twitched at the insult and Thorne controlled herself, she didn't want to laugh in her adopted niece's face. "That's her."

The jovial atmosphere turned sour as Thorne's face was etched with stern lines. "Although, I will confess my doubts. They claim they're huntresses, but they're still children. Yet Ironwood sends them down to me in lieu of anything else to assist in repairing the literal cracks in this city's foundations."

Summer took a step forward. "I'm not denying that they're all young, but from what I've seen and read, they're very capable in a fight."

"Fighting and leading aren't the same thing, as you're no doubt aware. I have no doubt that they've seen some carnage in their time. You cannot live the life of a warrior without experiencing an equal measure of misery. But they're at a dangerous age; Too mature to be called children, too young to know how the world truly works. I fear that they'll end up doing something disastrous that may cause more harm than good."

"Then its up to us to pick up the pieces." Summer declared with a shrug, "That's what we're supposed to do as adults after all. Give 'em a pat on the back or a slap in the face."

"I suppose." Thorne nodded once again, conceding to the point before turning her scrutinizing eyes on Summer. "So, why don't we get down to business. Not that I'm complaining, but why has my formerly Missing-In-Action niece suddenly returned to Atlas, and why is she answering Ironwood's beck and call?"

* * *

"Yang, can we talk?" Ruby asked gently.

The first Paladin team had been loaded onto a crane's flatbed along with accompanying supplies and they were slowly descending along the line of the city's support pillars. The trip was a slow one, with nothing to occupy attention beyond bland metal walls broken by the occasional painted letter or number designation.

Ruby found Yang alone, leaning on a supply crate while idly tinkering with Ember Celica on her human arm. She'd been morose for a few days now, and Ruby knew that if they didn't clear the air now, it'd fester and cause resentment between not just the team but their family. Ruby was so sick of seeing her family suffer because of it.

Yang huffed irritably. "Look Ruby, I really don't want to right now. Can you just leave me alone?"

"I have." Ruby replied firmly, her tone verging on anger. "I've left you alone because I knew you needed time to sort through… well, all of this stuff with Mum and Qrow and-"

Yang scoffed and shook her head. "Ruby, look. I understand why they did what they did, but I'm not ready to jump on the forgiveness bandwagon just yet. Besides, we have more important things to take care of right now. Like trying to reunite Remnant or stopping Salem. Family drama can wait until we're finished there."

"No, it can't." Ruby shook her head firmly. "I want it resolved _now_. I don't want you constantly glaring daggers in Qrow's back every time he leaves the room anymore. I understand you're angry-"

"I'm not going to forgive Qrow and Tai for all the lies! Ozpin did the same damn thing to us, and I'm just sick of it all. I want the truth, and have can I trust any of the adults in our lives anymore?" Yang demanded, pushing herself to her feet. "I'm sorry Ruby, but I've been burned too many times to take anything they say at face value anymore. I think we both have."

Ruby's shoulders slumped, disappointment etched on her face but she sympathized with Yang's point. Nearly every adult in their life has either lied to them, or made them active participants in secrets. It was... _tiring_ , to put it mildly. But now the truth was ready and willing

"What's going on?" Weiss interjected, as she moved towards the two and Blake followed at her side. Their expressions etched with identical looks of concern.

"Nothing." Yang answered unconvincingly before Ruby could get a word in edgewise. She turned to look at the cargo crate, pretending to be preoccupied with the lock.

"No. Its not nothing." Blake declared firmly.

Weiss had her hand on her hip, her lips pressed in a thin line. "You two have been acting strange for the last couple of weeks. Not days, _weeks_. And to be honest, you're both suffering because of it. Yang, you're becoming too brash and aggressive fighting Grimm - even more so than usual, and Ruby - I have never seen you miss a shot with your sniper - but I've countered at least six instances in the same fortnight where you have. _Something_ is wrong. Something has you both distracted."

The half-sisters, no the cousins, blinked and stared at Weiss in surprise at her deduction.

Blake took a step forward, her hands held out before her as if pacifying a confrontation that was about to come to blows. "Please. Ruby, Yang - We're your teammates, your friends. You can trust us, and we want to help. And we can only help if you tell us what's wrong?"

Ruby's fingers curled into fists as she mustered her nerve. She inhaled a deep breath and looked into her teammate's faces. "My mum is still alive."

Blake was the first to recover from the shock of the news. "What? She disappeared when you were a child, didn't she?" She glanced towards Yang for conformation. "I thought she-"

"W-Wait, I don't understand. Shouldn't that be a good thing? Your mother's been found. She's alive and well, right? Do you know where she's been this whole time?" Weiss interrupted her friend, shooting a quick apologetic look to Blake whose lips pressed in a grim line.

"Yeah, you'd think it'd be a good thing alright. But that's only the half of it." Yang declared glumly, arms crossed over her chest.

"What do you mean?" Blake questioned.

Ruby hesitated once more. "It, uh... it turns out that our family situation's a bit more complicated than we realised. See... My uncle Qrow isn't _actually_ my uncle..."

Weiss nodded slowly, not quite sure where the conversation was going. "Of course not. He's Yang's uncle, but doesn't mean he's any less your-"

"He's my father." Ruby finished quietly, almost too quietly to be heard over the noise of the crane behind them.

Blake as the first to break the silence. "What…?"

Ruby repeated. "He's my father. A few days after we got our licences, he took us to the Hospital to meet my mother. But, well, Neo decided attack my mother."

"I was there." Weiss stated, "I mean, I wasn't 'there' there. But that was the day Winter showed me Fria. The entire complex went into lockdown and Winter rushed off to deal with a 'priority patient'. I'd just assumed that it was VIP, like a councilman or some other old Atlesian name - I never knew it was your mother."

"Why would he lie about that? To you for all those years." Blake questioned, arms crossed.

Weiss turned to her faunas teammate. "I think we all know why: Salem."

"You're taking his side?" Yang balked, shooting straight to her feet.

Weiss held her hand up defensively. "I'm not taking _anyone's_ side, I'm just saying that given the situation - I can understand why he chose to distance himself. We all know what's at stake now, and his semblance is a wild card at the best of times. Hardly the best circumstances to raise a defenseless baby."

"Maybe..." Blake began uncertainly, "Maybe, you should just sit down and talk it out? Sometimes, the best thing to do is just let everything out? Let him know you understand but remind him how much this hurt the pair of you."

"Yeah, fat chance." Yang scoffed.

"Grow up!" Ruby's anger snapped like a twig as she turned towards her cousin, shocking all three girls into silence. "Look, I get it. I really do. But what good does it do? Does it make you feel better to dwell on it? To just let it linger and hold it over him like a noose? Everything, and I mean _everything_ , Qrow has ever done has been to protect us. So _Grow. Up._ "

They were all stunned at her assertive statement and a long tense silence followed before Ruby felt a sting of guilt. She didn't mean to snap at her sister, but if that's what it took for her to see sense.

"I'm sorry I yelled." Ruby apologized quickly. Now that she'd finally gotten the first matter off her chest, she decided it was time to let loose the second one too. Lowering her voice an octave, she gave a quick glance around to ensure no one else was nearby and could be listening in.

"There's more... I think - I think my mum might be the Summer Maiden."

"What?" Weiss frowned.

"How can you be sure?" Blake asked.

"Process of elimination, right?" Yang surmised, sharing a look with Ruby. Her anger had clearly quelled quite a bit. "Cinder was the Fall Maiden, Vernal the Spring Maiden, Fria's winter. All that's left over is Summer."

"But how can you be sure? How do you know that your mother's the Summer Maiden?" Blake pressed, frowning. "How could she be? Isn't there some sort of age limit on who can inherit the powers?"

"Something she said." Ruby's expression was lined with thought. "Mum told me - us, that her last mission was to locate the Summer Maiden. And she did. She said that she spent a good deal of time bonding with her before having to leave for some business in Vacuo where she went missing. She went missing fourteen years ago, in her mid twenties. Well within the age for Maiden powers. Add to that, Mum said that she still had a role to play in this war."

Another silence descended over the teenagers as they proceeded the information Ruby had just given them. "And that's why you said you'd support someone you loved getting the maiden powers," Weiss mused, "Because your mum has those powers."

"Its just a guess, I don't know if she does or not." Ruby shrugged lightly, feeling oddly liberated for revealing these truths.

"Lets say it is true. The next question becomes, how did she hide it from Salem for all those years as her prisoner?" Yang asked, almost lost in her thoughts.

"I don't know..." Ruby answered honestly.

"I think... I'd like to meet your mother, Ruby." Weiss declared a moment later, smiling gently. "She sounds like a truly fascinating woman. And I think we'd all have some questions to ask her."

"Agreed." Blake nodded firmly. "The things she could tell us about Salem, about the Maidens and everything in between. I think we could learn a lot from her."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cat's out of the bag. Thorne's not a total bitch, but she's not really that nice either.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	20. Back to Training

"Son of a biscuit!" Summer barked out her words a curse, slamming flat on her back in the Atlas Academy Training hall.

Her twin scythes, sleek black and grey weapons named Wax and Wane, clutched firmly in her hands while she lay there panting from that last bout. It felt like years since she'd last held weapons in her hands, then she pointedly reminded herself that it had been a number of years. The Grimm Queen's captivity did nothing for her combat readiness or skills, nor for her musculature or reflects. They had withered away and her complaints were summed up in one succinct sentence.

"By the Void, I'm out of shape..." She grumbled, face contorted in a massive pout while she stared up at the training room ceiling.

Foot falls echoed as her opponent came closer. Qrow Branwen entered her field of view, chest heaving with exertion and wearing a crooked smile, Harbinger in its scythe form and clear view as he loomed over her. "What was that about 'teaching me just how sorely mistaken I was' about scythes?"

Summer glowered at him. "Bite me."

Qrow shrugged, "I mean, if you insist."

He laughed when she slapped his ankle, just about the only thing in reach of her hand. "You're the worst."

"And, _you're_ a sore loser." Qrow shot back, offering a hand down to help her back up. "And out of shape."

"Your mastery of the obvious is inspiring, Mr Branwen." Summer continued to glare up at him petulantly, she sat up and crossed her arms and legs, petulantly. Pointedly looking away from his outstretched hand. Qrow moved a step to the side but Summer scooted around to keep her back to him.

After another two fruitless attempts to prop her up, Qrow rolled his eyes and shook his head in mild amusement. "Gods - glad to see you're still a brat and a half."

Her response was to blow raspberries, which only proved his point. He answered while a chuckle and knelt down at her side. "You know there's _something_ seriously wrong in the world when I'm the responsible one in the relationship, right?"

Summer turned her glaring silver eyes on him, and blew another short raspberry. The sneaky jerk took the opportunity to steal a kiss, and the fascade broke. She slapped his shoulder halfheartedly. "You really are the worst. I'm trying to be mad at you and you're not making it easy, jerk."

"Hey, it could be worse." He shrugged, hoisting her up finally. "You could have forgotten how to use your weapons completely."

"Yeah, where do the bullets go again?" Summer offered her right scythe, Wax, up at an oblique angle, affecting a pondering expression as she narrowed her gaze.

Qrow rolled his eyes, using his free hand to yank her hood over her head while ignoring her squeak of protest. "What do you think? One more before we break for lunch?"

"And risk you offending my pride again? Yeah, no thanks." Summer huffed, walking over to a chest high set of blocks and taking a seat. Wax and Wane lent against the wall by her side.

"So, do you want to tell me what's really bothering you?" Qrow asked, leaning against the wall beside her, Harbinger returned to its sword form and rested next to him.

Summer's lips pursed in line, hands folded together as she stared intently into the ground. "A lot of things, really. I think they're too numerous to mention."

"Is one of those things the fact you're the Summer Maiden?" Qrow shot off casually.

She chuckled quietly, guiltily. "I guess you caught onto that pretty quick, huh?"

"I had my suspicions. When you went missing, I spent a long time trying to pick up your trail. Comb over anywhere or everywhere you could've possibly been." Qrow confessed. There was an undeniable pain in his voice, but he still persisted in listing his points offhandedly on his fingers. "Your last job for the old man; the timeline of events between the death of little Naomi and your disappearance; that the new maiden's been missing for almost as long as you were gone; and the fact that Salem's cronies haven't got their greedy mitts on the relic of destruction yet."

Summer fought back the urge to wince at the Grimm Queen's name. She closed her eyes and drew in a steadying breath. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Qrow waved a hand dismissively. "Its all right. I figured that you'd tell me in your own time. But the one thing I haven't been able to figure is how Salem couldn't figure out the deception?"

"You already know that answer, I think." Summer offered, "Based on what you've already told me, She is almost legendarily arrogant. Definitely arrogant enough to try and dupe Gods into being her pawns. I think the factor that helped most was I wasn't the maiden when she captured me."

Qrow crossed his arms, a bitter scowl on his face. "I should've been there…"

Summer reached out, hand on his shoulder. "You would've ended up dead, and Ruby would've grown up without both her parents."

Whatever response Summer was going to give was abruptly cut off when the training room door chimed open. Two women were standing in the door way, both wearing Atlas colours though the elder one appeared to be an official Atlas Military officer.

"What are you doing here? I have reserved the training room for this time slot. You need to vacate this area immediately." Winter Schnee demanded in her professionally cold tone, brows knitted together in a scowl.

By her side was a younger woman who looked practically identical in terms of appearance, but her hair was platted down one side and she wore an elaborate combat garb with a rapier on her hip. Based on her description, Summer realised that this must have been Weiss Schnee, Ruby's friend and partner. The younger girl met her gaze and seemed stunned at her appearance.

"Relax Ice Queen, we were just about to call it quits anyway." Qrow waved dismissively, scooping down to collect the three scythes.

Winter Schnee turned her appraising eyes on Summer and appeared to scrutinize her. "Is it safe to assume that you are Huntress Summer Rose?"

Summer offered a bright smile, "The one and only."

"Is it true that you're the leader of Team STRQ? And you led _his_ team during your training?" Winter inquired brusquely, her derisive attitude towards Qrow growing clearer by the second.

Summer's smile turned a little perplexed, ignoring Qrow's snort of amusement. "You make it sound like it was a punishment."

"Is it not? I just fail to understand how you could possibly stand him for four years?" Winter declared firmly.

"Why? You jealous, Ice queen?" Qrow winked playfully, earning an elbow in the ribs from Summer Rose who then pointed towards the door. He rolled his eyes with a half-smirk and sauntered out of the training hall with both of their weapons in hand.

"Uh, Winter…?" Weiss tried to interject but firmly ignored.

"I would've been driven to madness if I'd been trapped on the same team as him, let alone having to work with him for that long a period." Winter confessed, glaring over her shoulder as if she could see him through the walls.

Summer made a conceding noise in the back of her throat, before her smile returned. A good deal more impish this time. "Perhaps. But Qrow learned a long, _long_ time ago to fear my temper."

Winter scoffed at the entire notion. "He seems to have no issues with igniting others' tempers. Especially mine. Why would you be so different? What quality do you possibly possess that makes you immune to his childish conduct?"

"Winter, she's, erm…"

"Because I'm his wife."

Her jaw dropped before she could stop herself, and Summer did her best to not to laugh in the poor girl's face. After a second, she recovered and Winter's lip pressed in a thin line, her ice-blue eyes observing the Huntress in white critically. "His… wife?"

"Yep." Summer answered cheerfully, arms crossed.

Winter glowered over her shoulder towards the door, a vicious look in her eye. A telltale gleam that indicated she could get someone in deep trouble. The Specialist cleared her throat. "With that factor in mind, what would you say if I told you he publicly challenged me to a duel for the sole purpose of humiliating me in front of General Ironwood and assembled students?"

Summer gave a halfhearted shrug. "I would say that's fairly classic him."

A surge of indignant anger spiked in Winter, reflected by her abrupt shift in tone. "He destroyed Atlas Military property!"

"Everyone needs a hobby. Void know I've wrecked a few Atlas mechs in my own time."

"He destroyed the courtyard in our duel!"

Without skipping a beat, Summer countered. "Did Glynda Goodwitch fix it?"

"Do you even care?!" Winter's voice was reaching a crescendo of outrage.

Summer remained unperturbed. "What? He likes to let loose when he's having fun. Besides, Glynda was there, right?"

"Yes, but -"

"Sounds like it all worked out in the end. I don't see a problem at all."

Winter glowered at the woman, her next words colder than the tundra, "I suddenly understand so clearly why you two married."

Beside her, Weiss had her hands pressed to her lips to muffle her nervous giggle.

"Birds of a feather flock together, my dear. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm _super-_ duper hungry." Summer lowered her gaze to the younger sister. "You're Weiss, yes? Ruby's told me a good deal about you. Thanks for being her friend. Lets have a talk later, okay?"

With that, Summer turned to leave, her hands clasped behind her back.

"Of course, _you_ wouldn't have any gripes about casually committing crimes," Winter's words were barbed and Summer stopped dead in her tracks, her good cheer evaporated instantly. Her silver eyes turned to Winter, Weiss herself seemed very well aware that she should remain silent. "After all, if you hadn't moved away from Atlas, you'd never be allowed to become a Huntress with Assault and Battery charges to your name."

Summer turned back to face the younger woman, a deceptively pleasant smile on her face as she closed the gap between them. "Ms Schnee, is it? I would humbly suggest that you quit while you're behind."

Winter, unlike her younger sister, apparently didn't get the massive hint being bludgeoned over her head. "General Ironwood gave me your file to review, I'm well aware of your… _history_ in Atlas. And that you were sent away to avoid being charged for your actions."

Summer looked into her eyes, her gaze flickering to Weiss for a fraction of a second before resuming the staring contest. Her tone was oddly pleasant. "Tell me, Ms Schnee. If someone had mocked the death of _your_ younger sibling to your face, wouldn't you want to beat them to a bloody pulp too?"

Winter was taken aback, her professional mask shaken for just a moment. Weiss gasped in shock, looking between the two older women.

Summer waited a moment for her words to sink in then turned to meet her husband waiting just outside. "That's precisely what I thought. Check those accusations next time, Specialist."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some hints to Summer's exodus from Atlas.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	21. Back in the Saddle

Tai's eyes fluttered open with the first orange rays of dawn splaying across his pillow as the sun crested the horizon. He sat up with a yawn, only to be surprised to find the other side of his bed empty. Granted, he should be used to that feeling, but recently his bed had been decidedly less lonely. He'd even go as far as to say more recently still, he'd even been enjoying a bit of adult fun there as well. It was simultaneously amazing yet soul-crushing to realise how quickly the estranged husband and wife fell so readily back into old patterns.

On one hand, for a few seconds, they could pretend like the two decades never happened. On the other, it felt like Tai hadn't moved on from Raven as readily as he believed.

When the letters from Atlas came, there was a long talk about their meaning. About the return of their formerly believed deceased leader, and about where to go from here. Although they both agreed that Raven was wrong to destroy Summer's epitaph - well, more like Tai beat it into her head that she was wrong to take her anger out on the thing - Tai had conflicted feelings about replacing the memorial. He couldn't do so in good conscience knowing that it stood for a lie.

Sure, he could replace it as a memorial to the years they had spent in mourning of her supposed death, but given that Summer was apparently alive and on the path to recovery in Atlas? To do so felt somewhat disingenuous.

Suppressing a shiver from the bitterly cold winter morning, Taiyang slipped on a warm jumper and track pants before making his way down stairs. He'd assumed that Raven was likely either out for a walk, or having a fly around Patch. So when he found her sitting on the front porch wrapped up in a blanket, he was rather surprised to say the least.

"I don't get it…" Raven declared, scowling at nothing.

"Don't get what?"

"She… Summer is alive, and that's fantastic. Real freakin' happy for her and all that. Qrow gets his bunk buddy back, yay. One big happy family. Makes me puke." She grumbled.

"You don't get that Summer's alive, or the concept of a happy family?" Tai shot back and Raven waved a hand.

"I won't pretend that the lovey-dovey crap doesn't make me want to vomit, but I don't understand... _Summer_. She spent most of her adult life as Salem's captive, pet or whatever - but she still wants to fight?" The former Bandit Queen was incredulous, shaking her head at the illogical concept. At least, illogical by her standards.

"How does she even think she can win? Salem can't be beaten. If she could, Oz would've ended her a long time ago... So why? Why is she persisting?" Raven leaned her brow on her hand as though trying to work out the mental gymnastics was giving her a headache.

"Its not about winning anymore." Tai replied, leaning against the veranda railing with his hands loosely folded together. "For Summer, it'd be for retribution. Its about getting even."

Raven barked out a long scornful laughter that carried on the wind, "Sweet innocent little Summer Rose, out for revenge? You're dreaming."

Taiyang shook his head, rolling his cerulean eyes. "And you need to take off the rose-tinted goggles, Rave."

Her laugh abruptly cut off and she glared daggers at him. "I told you, stop calling me that. Pisses me the hell off."

"Summer's _always_ had a vengeful streak, just cause she was quiet about it doesn't mean it wasn't there." Taiyang shrugged casually.

"But if she persists, she'll die for real." Raven growled, pulling the rug over her shoulders a bit tighter.

"Its a trip we all have to make sooner or later - that's just the end of a warrior's path and a reality we accept when we chose this life. Some of us choose to die standing in defiance of our enemy, others..." He trailed off, giving her a significantly darker look than usual. "Others want to crawl away and die in hiding."

"You don't have to keep finding a way of bringing that up in every damn conversation. I heard you the first dozen times, your point's been made. So cut it out." Raven ordered.

"Have it?" Tai cocked his head to one side, "So, you're saying you've gone to Atlas, taken the Relic from Yang and chose to hide it away somewhere in Patch so Salem _won't_ be going after our daughter anymore?"

She pulled her rug tighter still over her shoulders, absently pulling at its edge in a desperate bid to not appear indecisive. "I suppose that I should..." Raven's voice trailed off.

"Should what?"

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, but no words came out. After a long moment where she appeared to be emulating a fish, her eyes screwed shut in frustration and she shot to her feet. She stalked away a few paces before turning and casting her glaring eyes back at her ex-husband. "Look, I'm sorry I can't just say 'let me take care of it for you'. I'm sorry that I value my life enough to not get caught up on some pointless fucking war!"

Taiyang sighed, scratching his temple. "Look, no one's expecting you to take on Salem alone. No one's even asking you to take on the evils of the world or hold it up like you're some kind of mythical titan of legend. Hell, you don't even have to fight Salem herself. But if you want a shot at getting back into your daughter's - our daughter's life - then you'll have to square with the fact that doing so means you'll have to fight Salem's lackeys sooner or later."

"Newsflash Rae-Rae - we're _all_ scared shitless. The only thing different between the three of us is how we react to that fear. Summer and Qrow threw themselves into the war, dancing between that line of life and death, I chose to teach students and the new generation of Huntsmen to be better than we were. And you? Well, you ran and hid."

The bandit queen scowled at her husband, arms crossed over her chest. How long will he keep drudging that up, for brothers' sake?

Taiyang moved past her to the garden bed just below her bedroom window. The flowerbed he constructed when she arrived all those months ago, one that he hadn't planted any flowers in yet. Something about letting the soil settle first. Her confusion turned to outrage when he curled a corner of black tarp around his fist and ripped it away. Dark brown soil flew everywhere, and underneath a layer of clear plastic was Omen.

Her jaw dropped when he straightened up, ripping the plastic off her sword like he was unwrapping a present before planting it in the ground.

"Was it right under my nose this whole Gods damned time?" Raven snapped indignantly.

Taiyang's lips curled up into a playful, almost childish smile. " _Yeah_." The smile faded, replaced with a stern mark "So, right now I'm giving you a choice: You can take your sword, run back home to your merry band of bandits, and continue raiding pillaging and plundering your black guts out... or we can get our asses back in shape, act like the parents we're _supposed_ to be, and you can come with me to Atlas to help protect our family."

Raven's fingers curled into tight fists and deep scowling lines etched her brow. She scoffed and shook her head while closing the gap between them. She swiped Omen out of his grasp and turned back, casually striding away. "One thing I didn't miss about you, Tai... those damn speeches."

Tai's shoulders slumped for a second, only to straighten in surprise when Raven spun on her heel, red blade drawn and ready for a fight. "Lets get this over with."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tai and Raven get their backsides back into shape. :)
> 
> Sorry I've been AFK for a bit, was a bit burnt out between the three writing projects and had to take some time out to recuperate. Hopefully I'll be updating semi-regularly again soon. :)
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	22. Childhood Friends

Clover Ebi was still getting used to the prosthetic leg.

It was a new implant which had replaced his left leg from a few inches above the knee joint.

Today, Clover was off-duty wearing a pair of khaki pants, forest green jacket and brown shirt. He'd spent so much of his life in a uniform that he felt awkward outside of one. The only thing that made him feel remotely comfortable was the four-leaf clover pin he kept pinned to his jacket's breast pocket. He elected to take the day off to get his new limb examined and according to the good Doctor Pollendina, his prosthetic leg was in good condition. Due for a tune-up in a few weeks, but in relatively good nick.

"Its normal for things to feel a little strange at first." Doctor Pietro had said, "Things will take a little time before it feels natural. But before long, It'll feel just like your old leg. Don't fret so much, lad."

He heard that line a _lot_ during the rehab therapy. If only Clover could bring himself to believe it.

Given that he expected the entire appointment to take longer than just the twenty minute scan and assessment, Clover got to the military hospital at zero-eight-thirty on the dot. And now he was at a loss for what to do with himself for the rest of the day.

For eight months, he'd been cleared for active duty and even went as far as to take up extra duties, as if to make up for time lost during his rehabilitation. But over those eight months, he still noticed the subtle differences in the weight of his strides or the sound of his booted foot hitting floor. It was heavier, bulkier.

 _Metal_.

It was just one of the many things that still took some getting used to. The regular routine maintenance and servicing for one. And a myriad of other dramas, such as that pesky phantom limb feeling, the bone deep ache when he was in the elements and the risk of frostbite from spending too much time out in the cold.

Aura was all well and good, and could mediate some of the effects, but there were still plenty of caveats he had to get used to.

Though cutting edge, there was still enough of a difference between the old and the new that Clover would catch himself limping rather than walking normally. Like he was dragging a weight along as opposed to a normal movement. He'd thought the attention it occupied in his mind would diminish over time.

But not yet.

Not every night, but almost every other night, when Clover woke at some gods forsaken hour he was still taken aback by the sensation of cold iron pressed against his thigh stump. Some of those nights, he'd awaken from a near perfect recollection of that fateful mission and he would be panic stricken that the leg was gone. Only coming to his senses long after he'd returned to the waking world.

They were fears and doubts unbecoming of an Atlas Specialist - of the Ace Ops Commander - but they would plague his thoughts constantly. An ever alert chime in the back of his mind, a toiling bell to remind him that even good fortune had its limits. A more poetic soul would likely spin it as a tragic flaw of his character; that he only ever seemed to remember that lesson the absolute hard way.

Clover shook his head of the runaway thoughts. They were... _unbecoming_ of an officer of his station and they would lead him down a deep dark road that others have lost themselves to. No, he needed focus, he couldn't lament the 'what ifs' or the 'maybes' when the now was so much more important.

In a way he could almost trick himself into believing it was just chance, Clover weaved his way through the halls in the isolation ward, making a very deliberate path from a certain formerly guarded and occupied cell to the clerk's front desk. The incident here was an unforgivable lapse in security, and while the clerk in question had been punished and the matter declared closed, Clover wouldn't consider it closed until he made his own assessment of what happened.

The Ace Op Commander had heard Specialist Reed was in a thunderous rage ever since. She'd been working in triple shifts to make up for the perceived failure, even after the General all but ordered her to cease pushing herself half-to-death.

Clover made a second lap around towards the containment cell where the lingering remnants of damage were being repaired by a work crew when a military Doctor, Doctor Charron, finally caught up with him.

"Captain Ebi? Something the matter, sir?" Clover turned to face him, noting that the greying doctor already had a hand inching to his sidearm concealed under the lab coat.

"No, nothing's wrong." Clover assured quickly, "I heard about the breach in security here the other week, and I was just making my own informal assessment of the situation. How's the patient doing? I hope this hasn't set back their recovery by any means?"

The instant Clover spoke, Doctor Charron's posture instantly relaxed. It was common knowledge by now that the assassin was mute, given how readily they chose Specialist Reed's appearance and mimicked her sign language.

"This has... had _mixed_ reactions, yes. The patient is doing well enough though, significantly better now that we've moved her to a room with a window. But I have to admit I'm confused. I thought General Ironwood had already closed the investigation?" Charron frowned, perplexed.

Clover nodded. "He has. Like I said, I'm just making my own tactical assessment of the situation. Trying to figure out how it happened, stop it happening again. That sort of thing."

Doctor Charron peered at him skeptically. His old eyes flickered down briefly to the leg that Clover was keeping his weight off by instinct. He placed a fatherly hand on Clover's shoulder.

"I know this is all just some busy-work to keep yourself distracted. And I understand its still strange but-"

"-But I'll get used to it. I know, Doctor. I've heard that line before, and I don't doubt I'll hear it again for a long time to come." Clover couldn't quite keep his frustration out of his tone.

"Time heals all wounds, my friend." Charron intoned gently, then gave him a clap on the shoulder. "You should take some time, enjoy yourself. Its your day off, correct? Perhaps treating yourself to a nice meal?"

Clover chuckled hesitantly, "Maybe I would, but most of the restaurants in Atlas Central are a dear for my blood."

The Doctor nodded, clasping his hands behind his back. "I'm sure you'll think of something. Oh, but on your way out, would you mind passing by the recovery wards. I'm sure you're aware the Specialist Reed's been working exceptionally hard lately. So much so that I honestly think a stiff breeze would knock her over at this point."

"You want me to order her to relax?"

"If that's what it comes to, yes."

"I'll see what I can do, Doctor. But she's a hard case at the best of times."

"Any attempts would be appreciated." The Doctor said with an appreciative nod.

Ten minutes later, Clover found himself outside the isolation room where Specialist Reed was standing ramrod straight. The Doctor's assessment was no exaggeration. She looked exhausted, gaunt and worn to the bone. Dark bags etched under her eyes and it looked like she needed more than a good night's rest to recover from this little stint.

When Reed's green eyes turned to her, her back went impossibly straighter and snapped off a crisp salute.

"How long have you been on duty this run, Specialist?" Clover assumed his usual professional demeanor.

Specialist Reed made quick gestures and the audio device on her lapel translated them into stilted robotic speech. "I have been on duty as of oh-two hundred this morning, sir."

"I don't suppose there's any way I could convince you that what happened wasn't your fault, right?" He threw a thumb over his shoulder down the passage way he came.

"With all due respect, sir, I failed in my task to protect my charge and she sustained a wound because of it." Reed answered.

"Was the fault really with you, Specialist?" Clover asked, eyebrow raised. "Do you really think beating yourself up over something that's been and gone will really help the situation now?"

Reed did not answer. She listened intently. Clover inhaled and exhaled quietly. "You know you really shouldn't do this. Running yourself ragged is going to end up making things worse in the long run, and then what use will you be if another infiltration like that happens again?"

Reed's face pulled into a grimace and she didn't respond. "I'm not going to tell you to take the day off, but you need to stop swapping shifts with the other guards. No one will thank you if you wind up collapsing on the job."

Reed signed again, a wry smirk pulling at her tired face. "Strictly speaking, you do not have the authority to order me around on your own down time, Commander."

Clover just shrugged. "Let me rephrase then: I'm not suggesting you take the day off. I'm suggesting that you just take your foot off the pedal. Or it'll be you we find in one of those beds."

"Your point is well taken, sir."

"Glad to hear it." Clover's gaze flickered past Reed's shoulder. He couldn't help a bit of idle musing about precisely who was staying on the other side of that hard-light barrier. General Ironwood was tight-lipped about it, but whatever it was seemed to put his mission partner in a good mood whenever they were out on assignment.

"In that vein, sir." Reed signed once again, looking rather unapologetic. "May I ask a favour? Could I ask you to check on the patient on my behalf? I am required to make regular check-ups to ensure her mental health is sound. And you did just advise me to 'take my foot off the pedal'."

Clover's eyebrows went up before they shared a chuckle. Was his curiosity that obvious? Evidently so. Or his luck semblance was unintentionally playing a role in it. Whatever the case, he would just allow this small breach in protocol. Just enough to see who or what was so precious to the General and Qrow Branwen both to warrant both the security and the scrutiny. He would confess this small lapse in judgement later, but right now, his rather atypical curiosity got the better of him.

"Alright, fine."

Clover put his scroll up to the control interface and punched in a six digit key. The panel lit up and a mechanical voice chimed in turn. "Commander Ebi. C. Identity recognized. Barrier released."

The shield generator shut down with a whir, the slow steady hum fading into silence as the light blue evaporated into nothing. Clover made his way inside, giving the room a cursory glance over. Not quite as spartan as a typical recovery room in the hospital. Whatever visitors the patient had seemed to bring gifts and nick-knacks to make the place more livable. Books, stuffed animals, and other harmless objects of that variety.

"Lunch already? I just finished breakfast."

His heart stopped, his blood turned to ice and his teal eyes widened at the sound of her voice. It was old, stirring up ancient memories he hadn't thought about in a long time. Old friendships, guilt and rivalries that seemed dead and buried for a lifetime. Clover's gaze turned to the sole occupant in the room, curled up on the bed.

Summer Rose sat on her bed, a sizable novel open in one hand and an over-sized black plush toy cradled to her chest in the other. A bird with a grey and red scarf around its neck. Her silver eyes shifted from the book to his shocked expression.

"Well I'll be damned." Clover Ebi said by way of greeting. "You're... you're alive."

He scoffed and shook his head. "Of course you're alive. I should have known. You've been a thorn in all our sides."

Summer blinked for a second, confusion plain on her face. An emotion which slowly gave way to dawning recognition. " _Cloves_? By the damn void, is that you?"

" _Clover_." He corrected,

" _Cloves_." The way her lips quirked up into a smirk made the intention behind the misnaming all to clear.

Clover laughed, dragging a chair from across the room and taking his seat. An odd nostalgic expression on his face, albeit one tinged by melancholy. "I have to admit its been years since anyone's called me that. Not since I was a teenager in fact. Think last time it was either... you or Icarus. Not sure, I can't remember anymore."

"We were fourteen as I recall." Summer agreed, putting the book aside with a marker and hugging the stuffed toy close. "By the void. No chance in hell I expected to see you in the land of the living."

"Says the woman who's spent the last decade and a half officially Killed in Action." Clover countered. "But if you think I was bad back then, Icarus was worse than either of us as I recall."

"I think we were all absolute shits in our own ways way back when." Summer shook her head, the shock wore off quickly and her lips quirked up into an apologetic smile. "Don't take this the wrong way, Cloves. But I honestly thought you'd gone crook, or turned into some sort of gang leader or something. Some black market dealer or... Void knows what else."

Clover laughed out loud and Summer joined him in that. "The Terror trio."

While he did laugh now, he wasn't proud of those years. Then again, who could really look back upon their teenaged selves and not cringe and how horribly wretched they were. "What's the statutes of limitations on misspent youth?"

He shifted in his chair, "I think it was pretty obvious that we _all_ had a lot of growing up to do. And we all needed a hard slap in the face about how the real world worked."

"So say we all." Summer hummed in agreement, she shook her head in disbelief. "But, my gods, you've changed. Heh. And I'm glad you've cut that ugly ass mullet."

That caused a hint of red to touch Clover's cheeks, and he tried to laugh it off. "Like I said, we all had some growing up to do."

"Have to ask though: since you've obviously not dead in a ditch somewhere, what are you doing with yourself nowadays?" Summer wandered out loud, snuggling closer to the bird she held. It looked suspiciously like a crow now that Clover thought about it. But that was none of his business. Whatever therapy tools patients needed to recover from their trauma was their own business.

"I joined the military, and I'm now in charge of the Ace Ops."

Summer howled with laughter, falling back on her bed and guffawing at the frank confession.

"I didn't think it was _that_ funny." Clover shook his head, he shifted once more and the metallic thunk his left foot made against the tiled floor sounded a bit too loud and Summer's laughing died down bit by bit, replaced by a more pensive expression. Her silver eyes focused on his leg and Clover was finding himself uncomfortable with the attention.

"When'd that happen?" Summer inquired, holding the toy loosely.

Clover pressed a hand against his thigh, absently rubbing an ache out. "About two years ago. Horde of sabres shattered my aura. Wrecked my leg, shredded it pretty bad. Problem was I was out on a mission, infection set in and had to lose the leg to about here."

He drew a line at the seam of his prosthetic, a few inches above his knee.

"Sorry to hear that."

"It sounds worse than it is, and its not all bad." Clover tried to brush off the concern. "Sometimes 'good luck' means you lose a leg over a life. All things considered, this is probably the best I could hope for. If that bite was any deeper, would've nicked my femoral artery. Could've bled out right there."

"Fatalism doesn't suit you." Summer dismissed but exhaled, lost in a bout of melancholy, "But you do make a good point. Not all good luck is conventionally 'good' ya know? I keep saying - kept saying that to that damn bird of mine. Not all bad luck is inherently bad. But does he listen to me? That's a big fat serving of 'Nope' on a 'Noppity nope' sandwich."

"Bad luck...?" Clover echoed, frowning. He glanced to the side in thought. Was it a coincidence, or was she talking about who he thought she was?

"Oh, yeah. I met a guy who has a luck semblance same as you. Believe it or not, the pendulum swings the other way. His semblance is _misfortune_ , or so he says. Every time something bad happens, even the tiniest thing, he blames himself." Summer huffed, blowing her fringe up in frustration. "I love the man, but holy _crap_ he needs to ease up on himself."

"You, uh... you sound like you're describing someone I'm working with. Name's Qrow Branwen. Heard of him?"

Summer looked at him. "You could say that. We were on Team STRQ together at Beacon, he's my husband and he's the father of my daughter."

Suddenly the crow-shaped plushie made perfect sense.

Clover blinked in surprise, shifting in his chair. "Whoa! Whoa. _Yikes_. Okay. Um, that, I did _not_ know."

Summer frowned, hugging the toy closely. "Its not like you would've known, Cloves. I mean, I've been officially KIA for - what, fourteen years you said? And I haven't been in Atlas since... well, you know when."

" _Yeah_ , but I wouldn't have - you know what? Nevermind." Clover shook his head, trying to not feel so damn awkward. If he'd known Qrow was taken, he wouldn't have tried openly flirting with the man as much as he already had.

"You wouldn't have _what_ , Clover?" Summer sat up a little straighter, a light accusation in her tone and knowing smirk playing across her lips. "You trying to steal my husband, Ebi?"

Clover raised his hands defensively with a low chuckle, "Not anymore."

"Good." Summer declared, holding her plush a little tighter. "Because _mine_."

"That has been established, yes." Clover agreed slowly, chuckling.

Summer raised a finger sagely. "However, I will _allow_ you to continue flirting with him - but _only_ if you let me watch."

Clover slumped in his chair, eyes rolling. "Sweet Remnant, you're as big a brat as ever, aren't you?"

Summer simply grinned her jovial grin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the late update. I made reference in a previous Author Note that I was struck by personal tragedy. That tragedy has come to its inevitable conclusion and a family member passed away the weekend prior. As you can understand such news would sap the spirit.
> 
> On a lighter note/reason for the mini-hiatus, I was confused as to how I should continue off this story since there are a great many things that I want to set up and wasn't sure what sort of chronological order I should deliver them in. I have decided simply to go with what I have and allow things to progress over time.
> 
> Now onto the chapter. Clover and Summer knew each other way back in the day.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	23. Mutually Beneficial

The Council meeting proceeded as they always did. Meandering strings of conversation vaguely alluded to the current agenda item which amounted to little more than double-talk and circling around the issues that truly mattered.

Admiral Iris Thorne was quickly reminded within the first five minutes, of the two hour session, precisely why she almost always chose to attend via a scrambled communication line in her office. Conversations invariably boiled down to blaming the newest hottest topic of the week for the lack of progress in stately issues. The newest punching bag of the council was this Dust Embargo, a reactionary if short-sighted measure to prevent another collapse like the one at Beacon last year.

Thorne had her own opinions on the matter, but she could see the validity in both sides.

Any commander - any leader - worth their salt understood just how important these matters of state were. The good governance of a city or kingdom demanded meticulous management of resources, manpower, skill and a deft application of the art of compromise.

Unfortunately, all of these things took time. And so much time had been wasted in this meeting, time that could've been otherwise used productively.

In theory, there would be eight people seated at the Atlas Round Table.

The Speaker who would serve as a mediator for discussion, appointed and vetted by an independent branch of the Atlesian Governing Body; the Round Table Scribe who would studiously record minutes and notations of the meeting for the Council Archives; Three Councilors, two elected by Atlas and one elected by Mantle; The Head and Guild Master of the Huntsmen Academy; the Lord Admiral of the Mantle Navy and Captain-General of the Atlas Military.

At this gathering, there were only six people. Just as James Ironwood occupied the seats of General of the Atlas Military and the Guild Master of the Huntsmen Academy, so too did Iris Thorne hold the Command of the Mantle Navy and was the lawfully elected representative of Mantle.

The Speaker stood at a podium that overlooked the semi-circular table where the council members sat. Between them was a massive holographic display that contained the agenda items of the day. And when the speaker declared the meeting adjourned, the council members filled slowly out of the chamber. The scribe following shortly thereafter to file today's meeting records away.

Thorne had scarcely noticed them go, her faded purple eyes focused on the electronic data pad set before her. Her stylus was a blur between recording her thoughts, signing orders and monitoring the data in-load of daily mission briefings. She didn't look up when the chair beside her scraped across the floor.

"I'm glad that we had the opportunity for a face to face discussion, Lord Admiral. Though I wish this were under better circumstances." Councilwoman Camilla said by way of greeting, assuming the seat beside her.

Thorne didn't look up to acknowledge her Atlas contemporary. "Unlike most members of this council, I do not have the luxury of floating away from the problems that beset my slice of the Kingdom. So whatever issues you need to discuss off the record, I politely suggest they be of a certain calamitous quality."

"I won't deny that General Ironwood's dust embargo has set us all on edge." Camilla agreed after a moment's pause, nodding with the appropriate grimness. It was an act, a practiced performance that Thorne had no patience for. Before long would come the empty platitudes and vaguery.

"That's why I was hoping to talk with you privately for a moment. About General Ironwood's near totalitarian actions. The system is supposed to have checks and balances, but lately he has been running roughshod all over this Kingdom."

"I dare say, he's not the only one." Thorne interjected wryly.

"And I know with your help, we could overturn this embargo. And then we can finally work on providing Mantle with much needed resources. But we cannot act before the General ceases this pointless blockage." Camilla offered not unkindly, placing a placating hand on Thorne's arm.

"Indeed. And next week, when the embargo has been lifted, the international economy will require time to recover and allow for an influx of trade. Ignoring the fact that Atlas' dust companies are the ones with the monopoly on that particular corner." The Admiral replied coolly, signing off on other orders.

Wrong footed, the Councilwoman attempted to interject but Thorne cut her off in her pleasant off-handed tone.

"Just as last week, it was the unrest begun by the sudden Flash Freeze out in the Tundra. And the week before that, it was the Armistice Day to commemorate the end of the Great War eighty-two years ago. The week before that still, it was a worker strike in Atlas - The strike in question being confined to a set of restaurateurs. Though what they have to do with matters of supplying metals, arms and armaments to soldiers and engineering corps down in Mantle, I haven't the faintest clue."

Admiral Thorne shrugged halfheartedly, not bothering to look the councilwoman in her eye. "The Civilian mindset has been an alien thing to me for a very long time now. Or should I call back the Council scribe? I can give dates and times and you can happily inspect the records where your words have amounted to little more than hollow platitudes and empty promises."

The Admiral rose from her chair, her scarred face sketching a fearsome image as she stared down at her fellow councilwoman. The cover on her tablet closed with a satisfying clap.

"Your excuses are as dull as they are wafer thin, my dear. I won't deny that General Ironwood's new secret projects have put an intense strain on an already overburdened local economy; but I have been promised, and promised, and promised aid for Mantle for years on end at this point. And to put it bluntly, I'm sick of you, Sleet and Ironwood blowing smoke about _desperately_ needed aid. This has transcended advanced repair requirements and become basic humanitarian needs. Are you content to let half your kingdom starve to death in their homes, or freeze to death because there's not enough parts to adequetely repair our power grids? Or are you simply waiting for us to become a new crater?"

"You're exaggerating, Admiral." Camillia declared boldly.

"Am I? Shall I remind you that if Mantle collapses into the Tundra - a very _real_ risk right now if you had bothered to read the countless reports or entreaties for aid - then you will topple with us. Your very foundations are built upon sand, Councilwoman, and the tide's come into wash it all away."

Thorne's brow furrowed, the scars pulling across her face to make the image all the more fierce. "As of right now, Ironwood has been the only one to reach out and offer any form of tentative assistance for only one of our many pressing issues; token gesture though it may be. So forgive me if I'm not exactly predisposed to doing you favours, Katrina. Your words mean nothing to me."

Camilla shot to her feet, attempting to match the Admiral's temper, but found herself singularly falling short. Both figuratively and quite literally. The councilwoman barely reached Thorne's shoulder in terms of height, and had to crane her neck to look the Navy officer in her eye. "Admiral Thorne, you are a member of the council and-"

" _Indeed_ , which is why you can understand that I do not have the time or energy to waste with idle talk. Pardon me, I have a kingdom and a Navy to run."

With that, Admiral Thorne turned abruptly on her heel and departed the round table in a foul temper, leaving Councilwoman Camilla behind.

Upon exiting the Chamber, Commodore Everest snapped immediately to attention and took the proffered datapad that Thorne shoved into his hands. His dark tattooed face creased in an expression of sympathy towards his irritated superior.

"Politics. So damn tiresome. I swear that dealing with that cavalcade of children is responsible for more grey hairs than any Naval engagement I've ever commanded." Thorne ran her finger down the ancient claw scars across her face before pinching the bridge of her nose, hoping to quell a rising headache that threatened to transform into a migraine.

"I take it the meeting went about as well as can be expected?" The Commodore mused aloud.

"There is a reason I do not attend these things personally. Reading the minutes gives me less of a headache than actually _hearing_ them bemoan each other. Thank you, Fenix." Thorne replied, rubbing her brow and taking an offered thermos flask. Inside was a sweet smelling brew that warmed her up considerably. Though temporary, the relief it gave her was a welcome reprieve.

"Admiral Thorne?"

And just like that, the headache went from throbbing to splitting. Thorne's dull purple eyes locked on General Ironwood, approaching her with his hands clasped behind his back. At his right shoulder was the Specialist Winter Schnee in a similarly poised posture.

"I have wasted enough time here, Ironwood. Please tell me you're not about to waste more of it. It's a rather precious commodity when you get to be my age." Thorne advised, mentally assessing where her combat knife was. An old but faithful weapon that remained concealed across the back of her belt.

She had told her adjutants that she must inform the good General of the greater threat out there in the unknown parts of the world. The demonic creature known only as Salem. But first she had to ascertain precisely where Ironwood stood. And she wanted to handle that matter on her own terms.

"I have no wish to waste your time further. Believe me when I say that I happen to be in complete agreement with your sentiments today." Ironwood nodded sympathetically.

"I believe the common joke among office workers is 'I survived a meeting that should have just been an email'." Thorne answered, earning a distant chuckle from her Atlas contemporary.

"Yes, that does seem to be the case." The strained levity faded, "I was hoping to have a few more minutes of your time if I may? I understand that Mantle has been under an intense strain lately, but I'm hoping to reach a greater compromise."

"Surely you could have simply opened a communication line if you wanted to discuss further reparations to Mantle and its subterranean plate." Commodore suggested, but Thorne raised her hand to silence any further comments.

Ironwood's expression was downcast, as though he wasn't willing to voice his next thoughts. "What I wish to discuss… I don't necessarily trust our security systems enough to voice over a com-line. Even with the military-tier scrambling."

"That's a bold statement from you if I ever heard one, Ironwood." Thorne's brow furrowed.

"I'm aware of that. But perhaps when you've heard what I have to say, you'll understand why." Ironwood suggested, then gestured for Thorne and Everest to follow him.

"While we're speaking candidly, may I ask your opinion on something Admiral?" Ironwood began as the two of them walked in lockstep towards the Academy, their Adjutants trailing behind them.

The Council Chambers, and other administrative buildings were located within a moderate walking distance from the Atlas Huntsmen Academy. A deliberate design choice on the part of the architects. The intention was that should any harm come to the council members while they were in session, nearly the entire force of Huntsmen stationed within could be rallied and mustered to render aid to their Kingdom leaders.

It wasn't until they had stepped outside into the cool evening air that Thorne saw fit to present an answer, idly sipping more tea from the thermos in her hand.

"It depends on what you want an opinion on." Thorne answered.

"This is a strictly hypothetical scenario: Say there was an enemy. An enemy that only a select few knew existed and have been fighting for as long as civilisation existed. How would you go about introducing the concept of such an enemy to the population?" Ironwood questioned,

Thorne glanced at his profile, scrutinising him. Precisely what was he up to? A secret enemy he says? Was this some sort of test to gage her reactions? To measure precisely how she would handle and defeat such a foe? It was unlikely, given that the General had very little experience in espionage style campaigns. Once more, she reminded herself of the trusty hidden dagger on her belt and considered an answer.

"I would manufacture a terrorist threat." Thorne supplied bluntly.

"You would _what_?" Winter Schnee blurted, then promptly remembered herself.

Thorne continued as though uninterrupted. "Over time, I would introduce a nameless threat to the population, an ever-blooming fear that would allow them to get used to the idea that there was an enemy in their midst. Over a time period, for argument's sake say six months to five years, I would steadily reveal more and more information to paint the unknown individual as a target for outrage and action."

"You wouldn't reveal such a threat all at once?" Ironwood questioned, black eyebrow arched upwards, "Don't you believe that would be the smarter option?"

Thorne shook her head, taking a long sip from her thermos and enjoying the sweet brew rolling on her tongue. "No - It wouldn't. Perhaps to a smaller population, say if you were simply talking to a group of a dozen or fewer people. Then you have the opportunity to answer questions and allow them to process what they've heard. But the larger population size you introduce this concept to, the more and more herd mentality will take over. And statistically speaking, the larger a group the more they will act in accordance to the lowest common denominator."

"To put it plainly, an individual can process this threat more easily than a group could all at once. Does that summarise your point, Admiral?" Winter Schnee interjected,

"A person's smart, people are dumb. Dumb, stupid wild animals, every single one of them." Everest supplied.

"Precisely that. If you introduce this concept slowly over time, you gain better control over how you can direct the people's outcry and what to direct their emotion towards. And when an enemy has finally been named, they have a focal point to rally behind." Thorne explained patiently, "Having that single looming threat will be a banner, a goal to fight towards. Though it does take a great deal of patience to cultivate the right responses you'd require for such a task. And, of course, one needs the right sort of experience waging that kind of campaign. It's not something you can just bungle through with strength of arms alone."

"And how would you take the effect the rising panic into account when dealing with the Grimm?" Specialist Schnee questioned and Thorne smirked.

"Is this an interrogation? Because it almost feels like you're attempting to ask me for advice? Shall we dispense with the obfuscation, General? Or is this the point where you wish to inform me that there is an ancient threat outside our kingdom walls, and you need my help to defeat it?"

By the time Thorne had concluded her answer, the four of them had made it to General Ironwood's office. The door swished open and the ceiling illuminated when it sensed motion.

Ironwood made his way inside, "I confess, that's precisely why I wanted to speak with you this evening, Admiral. Please, come in."

When Thorne entered the office, she had the feeling she'd walked into a trap. Regardless, she ordered Everest to remain outside with a silent gesture. If push came to shove, she could use her semblance to immobilise them and make her escape. But would the General truly be so brazen to attempt an assassination in his own office? Thorne's lips pressed into a thin line, wondering precisely what Ironwood was planning here.

"Are you familiar with any fairy tales, Admiral?"

"I sat through a dull two hour affair to listen to your fantastical pitch, is that it?" Thorne dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Or perhaps this is the part where you tell me you - and your new allies - have been busy attempting to fight against Salem and her ilk too."

The blunt statement hung in the air, and even the military discipline instilled into the Atlesian specialist didn't prevent her open mouthed shock at such a blunt admission.

"I take it then… that Huntress Rose informed you of the situation, and that's why you agreed to meet me." Ironwood recovered quickly.

"On the contrary; I've known about Salem for quite literally years. General Palatinate was once a confidant of Headmaster Ozpin - a reincarnating immortal if she was to be believed. And I've never had a reason to doubt her judgement of character. Patrica saw fit to inform myself and Colonel Rose when we first became her adjutants." Thorne paused and glanced around the room.

It seems like they were all fighting the same foe. How irritating.

So much pointless pettiness and arguing could've been avoided if they were frank with each other. Perhaps the fault for that lay with Thorne as well. Too caught up in what could have been to acknowledge the 'now' that was set before her. "I will admit however, there were bits and pieces I didn't know about. The Maidens for instance, women with the power of magic at their finger-tips. The four relics. The fact that our enemy appears to be an immortal. Summer was quite thorough with her briefing in that regard."

"She wasn't authorised to share that information with you." Winter said firmly, but Ironwood waved her off.

"Then, it appears we are both on the same page. And I hope you can understand why I've had to requisition so many resources from Mantle and many of our own operations to progress our current projects." Ironwood explained, circling around his desk and taking a seat behind it. "I presume that Huntress Rose has informed you of the Global Communications Project."

"She has." Thorne nodded, "And, it seems that you and I have much to discuss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did some world building. Thorne and Ironwood are finally talking. Yay!
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	24. Rest and Resolve

For all the troubles plaguing Altas, Mantle and Remnant as a greater entity, James Ironwood felt like a great weight had been lighted from his shoulders.

Admiral Thorne and her inner circle not only knew of the oncoming storm, but were already pursuing their own measures against it. And that fact alone helped explain many hidden reasons behind the reluctance and tensions between the two city states. Both were unwittingly sabotaging the other's preparation efforts for Salem's ilk by hording from the same diminishing resource supply. Two bodies drawing upon one straining heart.

Of course, that wasn't the only reason why Mantle was suffering its own economic issues, but went a long way to explain why they were increasingly catastrophic lately.

Once the initial shock had passed, their conversation became animate and lasted for hours. It stretched into the evening and well into the next morning. Over its course, Thorne and Ironwood had moved from the General's office to the deserted galley for a late dinner and coffee then, some time afterwards, arrived at the conference room some doors down from the Office. The security mechanisms were engaged and sealed the room from outside eyes.

This frank talk between two officers was phenomenally refreshing. No political double-speak or hidden agenda in play, neither was dancing around the other in a verbal spar to gain the upper hand. This was just an honest discussion between two like-minded veterans fueled by the mutual passion to defend their home.

Ironwood continued to probe the Admiral for tactics and strategies to introduce Salem as a threat to the people in the most effective way possible. And she answered concisely with various methods and means, outlining the pros and cons of each within effective time frames.

Ironwood converted his scroll into its tablet form and jotted down notes, outlying minutes of their impromptu meeting. He'd also forwarded several classified documents pertaining to the latest construction and reinforcement materials devised by Atlas Scientists.

He had to admit Thorne's knowledge of espionage, subterfuge and infiltration tactics were staggering. Far beyond what experience Ironwood had.

The General spent his career as a front line soldier and rose through the ranks in the crucible of combat. Thorne's rise in her career was through Navel Intelligence, with a proclivity towards infiltration and wet work. She had a wealth of experience in manipulating public and private perception.

Ironwood wondered just how many of those techniques were used to maintain her popularity in Mantle and keep herself in power. And why the terrorist faction of the White Fang were such a non-threat in Mantle. They were always a nuisance in the same way a fly buzzing around was a nuisance, but the movement was all but completely crushed. The good Admiral was making sure Mantle couldn't fall to the same internal strife that plagued Beacon.

Through a clever mix of planted agents, political appointments and some of the best public relation schemes on Remnant, Thorne had effectively cut off the head of the snake and let the leaderless splinter group fall apart.

Of course, there were still lingering White Fang elements - Thorne insisted her best agents were quickly bringing that matter to a close - and the vast disparity between Atlas and Mantle. But with this new spirit of cooperation Ironwood believed they could make great strides to quell that divide.

"That still leaves us with the knotty problem of having to deal with this Salem woman." Thorne mused, stroking a scar running down her cheek in idle thought.

"If what Huntress Rose told us is true, then the only way to kill her is to help her understand the importance of life and death," Ironwood answered, absently scribbling on his tablet with a stylus.

No words, just an unintelligent little scrawl in the corner to keep his hand busy while he focused his thoughts.

"However, that's going to be difficult. If not borderline impossible. Her actions brought about the total destruction - no, _extinction_ of the last generation of man. Understanding that, any normal man or woman burdened by conscience would be horrified beyond any capacity for description. At least, _I_ would be."

"As would I. But we're both individuals with fierce morals centered around protecting our own. While it's nowhere near the scale of the entire race of man, you and I are both commanders - General and Admiral. I don't know about you, but when men die in the line of duty to carry out my orders, I feel and mourn those deaths keenly." Thorne offered, she exhaled a deep breath.

"From Rose Pup's accounts, not even the sanctity of blood matters to Salem. She slew their own children out of spite for Ozpin." Thorne's hands trembled.

At first, James thought it was from fatigue, but the thunderous expression on her scarred face showed her undiluted rage. "I'm a mother myself. No matter how he misbehaved as a lad, I could _never_ imagine raising a hand to my son with lethal intent."

"We have similar sentiments, Iris. If the destruction Salem's wrought in this world and the last hasn't given her pause, or caused her to contemplate her actions, then I don't think any power on Remnant ever will."

Ironwood leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of this information compounding the fatigue gnawing at his bones. From more than just working through the night. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

"I suppose this proves that old thought experiment is true: lock a child in a wardrobe for their whole life, and they'll hardly be sane when they're let out. But philosophical discussion doesn't get us any closer to figuring out a way to destroy her."

Thorne tapped her stylus on her scroll. "I suggest we void the question of destruction altogether."

Ironwood frowned, "Elaborate."

"Salem cannot die - the gods themselves have made that so. Which means in order to defeat her, we need to expand our win conditions and shift our paradigm _away_ from the path we know won't work." Thorne explained, her dull purple eyes glazed over as she pondered the situation, "Which means, our options are more akin to pacification, nullification and containment."

Ironwood leaned forwards, hands folded and chin resting on them. "Pacification isn't an option as much as killing her isn't. She'll stop at nothing to slaughter us all, and as you said, she killed her whole family in what amounts to a _temper tantrum_. I don't think negotiating in an option, unless you want us all to volunteer for mass suicide."

The Admiral muttered something along the lines of 'spiting the bitch'.

"As for nullification. Well, perhaps we can use the silver eyed warriors' magic to purge the Grimm influence from her. We have two working with us. But that still leaves the knotty problem of her magic. How can we possibly nullify that? We don't even understand the basic mechanics behind it."

Thorne hummed grimly in agreement, "We also have to take into account that she's the linchpin, the Queen of an army of monsters. Without her guidance, we'll likely have a tide of rampaging feral beasts assaulting our - no, the _world's_ bastions. I don't think we can withstand those prolonged sieges without massive casualty projections across all kingdoms… Man and Faunas would likely take centuries to restore the population size."

Ironwood nodded at the dreary notion, he pressed on. "Containment carries the same issues as trying to nullify her. Especially since we've just established we have no real way of countering her magic. And while there is a stop-gap solution to potentially address that problem, I do not want to subject Huntress Rose or the elderly Winter Maiden in our care to that kind of experimentation.

"The former is suffering severe PTSD and the latter suffers from Alzheimer's disease. The treatment of their conditions alone makes it... highly impractical, and detrimental, for them to participate in that sort of thing."

"All of the above aside; there is another option we could consider," Thorne began slowly, she leaned forward and her brows creased in thought. "Please correct me if I'm wrong, but each Academy has a vault containing a godly relic, yes?"

Ironwood nodded, "That's correct."

"The Staff of Creation is here in Atlas, The Crown of Choice in Beacon, The Lamp of Knowledge is Haven-"

" _Was_ in Haven," Ironwood interjected, "The Spring Maiden disappeared from the Battle of Haven after the vault was opened, so it couldn't be resealed. Which meant the lamp was transported here for safe keeping. That was the incident with the unidentified transport in Mantle some time back."

"Explains a few things." Thorne muttered then cleared her throat, warming to her line of thought. "Pardon me then. The Lamp of Knowledge is here. And the Sword of Destruction is under Shade. Are these all correct?"

"So far."

"And each Seasonal Maiden is keyed to these vaults. Fall for Vale, Summer for Vacuo and so on, yes?"

Ironwood nodded once more in the affirmative, growing suspicious. "Where, may I ask, are you going with this line of questioning Admiral?"

Thorne pressed her hands together and leaned on them, glaring down at her scroll for a moment before meeting Ironwood's skeptical gaze, "What if we retrieve the Sword from Shade with Summer Rose's power and use it to destroy the Lamp?"

" _Destroy_ it?" Ironwood balked at the notion, eyes wide in shock. He shook his head, recovering quickly. "I don't even know if the relics could destroy each other, or what would happen if we somehow managed to achieve that?"

Thorne dismissed with a shrug, "It's purely a hypothetical notion."

Ironwood remained silent for a long moment, pondering the options. "I won't deny that... the idea has a certain _appeal_. Asset Denial is a tried and true battle strategy. And sometimes it's better to destroy an asset than let it fall into the hands of the enemy. But we haven't the slightest idea what'll happen if we somehow manage to destroy the relic."

"As I recall, the Lamp was called the 'Lamp of _Knowledge_ ' - and there's still one question left." Thorne mused pedantically.

The General shook his head firmly, "We haven't reached that level of desperation yet. We'll still need to explore all avenues first. And if we destroy the relic, then it might cause even more problems than Salem ever could."

The Admiral sighed, "Perhaps. Consider me utilitarian, but if it does cause some... _ungodly_ cataclysm or whatever you'd like, so long as one human is standing in the end of it and Salem isn't? I'd consider that a victory."

"A Pyrrhic victory." Ironwood pointed out coldly.

Thorne simply shrugged again. "Sometimes those are all you can hope for."

"We're not at that point yet." The General reemphasized.

" _Yet_. I'm just offering alternatives. While it would be nice to hope for the best, experience has taught me to expect the worst. And the Grimm have a nasty way of surpassing even our foulest expectations."

"That's... regrettably true." Ironwood ran a hand through his hair, rubbing his eye while he thought. "In the meantime, we should try to explore other options and while we're at it, focus our attentions on developing the Amity Tower project."

Thorne sat up a little straighter in her chair, fixing the General with a hard look as if an idea had struck. "I think I may have an even better idea than just the relay tower, James. Tell me, have you heard of the Evernight Protocol?"

"No, I'm not familiar."

"That's not surprising. Only three people knew of the full scope of the protocol. Two of them are dead." Thorne tapped a few keys into her scroll.

Ironwood could see it prompt her for increasingly elaborate passwords and authorizations at least six times as she dove deeper into its storage banks. His own scroll chimed with an incoming message and it was a single file labelled 'ENP_ZEROSUM'. He glanced up at the Admiral before opening the file.

His scroll blew up with schematics, command lines and codes, a detailed action plan, estimated times to completion, material requirements and so on. He read through line by line, eyes widening slowly as he realized the breath of the plans contained within.

"What is this?"

"General Palatinate's legacy. A plan implemented 40 years ago when the concept of Altas' floating city was first devised. Consider this a sign of good will that I entrust it to you. Read through it, evaluate it and make your own assessments. Given the right provisions, it may serve a superior function to your proposed Communications Tower."

Thorne closed her scroll and collapsed it back into its compact form. "But for the time being, we've worked through the night. I think we'd both profit from some sleep. So if you'll excuse me, James, there is a bunk down in Mantle with my name on it."

Ironwood called over his shoulder, "Iris. Thank you. For trusting me, for helping me with this."

"We're all in the same sinking ship together James. It's pointless to be at each other's throats." Thorne said, idling flipping her scroll between her fingers. "That being said, we will still need to re-negotiation the resource distribution across our two states. However, I'm willing to postpone that discussion until repairs on the subterranean plate are complete."

"I'll try to organise another corps of engineers to assist you in the meantime. Many hands make light work."

"Indeed. Rest well, General." Thorne saluted him briskly,

"You too, Admiral." Ironwood returned the salute as his counterpart departed the chamber.

* * *

Taiyang Xiao Long wasn't a fan of the cold by any stretch of the imagination. He hadn't even see snow fall before his family moved to Vale to chase his father's job. He grew up in the rugged deserts of Vacuo and learned to love the heat.

So, while he was resolved to go to Atlas to help his family and friends no matter what, it didn't change the fact he _bitterly_ hated the cold. It made him the polar opposite of his teammate and sister in law, Summer Rose.

Summer loved the cold. Even in the dead of winter in Vale, she'd be walking around with short sleeved shirts, teasing her team about being 'soft'. A jest that particularly ruffled Raven's feathers. The last thing the proud Bandit wanted to be was 'soft', even when she'd abandoned those ways for a time to dedicate herself to becoming a Huntress. Those rough edges never truly went away.

Even when they were married, Raven's idea of expressing her affection flipped back and forth between vitriolic and sincere fondness. It was just her way, she was one to dish out insults and snide remarks, and he'd counter them in term. There was never any true heat behind them, especially as they grew closer during those younger years. It was simply that her upbringing wouldn't allow her to express her sentiments any other way.

After everything she's done, after breaking his heart into pieces and leaving without so much as a good bye, Tai still loved the foul woman. Maybe its because he saw now what he saw back then, something redeemable. Something wanting to atone, but being too wrapped up and buried under pride to admit it.

Shaking his head of those thoughts, Tai did up the laces of his boots. He'd traded his shorts for longer pants and his vest was replaced by a wool-lined tanned jacket. His yellow emblem was printed on a black patch on its sleeve and inside were pockets and clasps for storing extra ammo cartridges. Across his bed was a large black cloth bag which contained his weapon, he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder by the strap.

Tai wasn't surprised to find Raven on her usual perch, sitting on the front porch with Omen lying beside her. She shed the trappings of the Bandit Queen and replaced her clothes with something new. She wore a Mistral style crossover sleeveless jacket. The vest was black, but the long coattails were a rich maroon detailed with the same pattern that once decorated her obi. She wore ankle boots with white thigh high stockings and black shorts. Her dark hair was pulled back, tied into a spiky tail. It only reached her shoulder blades now since she cut it when she'd returned to Patch.

"You ready to go?" Tai asked, hitching his weapon a little higher on his shoulder.

Zwei, the family dog, raised his head from the cushioned bed he slept on then happily jotted over to join his master at his side.

Raven didn't reply. Her expression was oddly morose, lost in thought. Second guessing things, most likely.

"Last chance to back out?" Tai offered gently. "You can just send me to Atlas and stay here. I… I won't judge you. And I'd actually appreciate someone looking after the place."

Zwei yipped at his side in agreement.

Raven remained silent, her eyes were glazed over. "There's a _lot_ of things they don't talk about, you know. The Maidens."

Tai cocked an eyebrow up. He knew of Raven's position and power, but she never actually spoke openly over it beyond that first and only conversation. He assumed a seat beside her on the porch, offering an ear.

"Maidens are basically gods on Remnant. And that power always sparks jealousy and envy. Paints a target on whatever sap's unlucky enough to get saddled with the role. But the jealous don't know about the _voices_. The envious probably won't be so envious if they knew they'd have a running commentary in their head the rest of their lives."

"Voices?"

Raven made a derisive sound, somewhere between a scoff and a grunt. "Whispers, really. So faint you can't hear their words, but present enough to drive you gods damned mad if you're fool enough to try and understand them."

Tai thought that he should be concerned about his former wife's mental well being, but how the hell was he one to judge what was normal when it came to magic?

"After I killed Blossom and took her power, those whispers have been a raging chorus. When I killed, when I raided and pillaged, they somehow were louder than the screams of those hapless villagers."

Raven looked down at her hands, they were trembling. "I don't want to go to Atlas. I don't want to face them, I don't want to die fighting Salem. But ever since I made the choice to throw my life away like that hapless idiot; the whispers have gone silent."

She looked up at the early dawn sky. "I wonder if that means they're pleased with me? Or maybe they figured I was screwed either way and decided to give me calm before the shitstorm hits."

"I suppose it's the will of the Spring Maiden." Tai suggested with a shrug.

Raven scoffed and shook her head. "Years ago, I'd of hit you for saying something so damn stupid. But I'm honestly finding it hard to refute the point. Maybe it's the Will of the Maiden, or maybe it's my own guilty conscience."

She rose to her feet, Omen's scabbard attached to her belt and her spare hand on the pommel. "Whatever. Chances are I won't ever find out what's what. Let's go."

Raven drew her sword and sliced a portal into existence, its red and black energies building and folding in on itself.

"You never were one for sentimentality, were you?" Tai sighed, shaking his head.

"Move your ass or I'm leaving you behind." Raven ordered haughtily and Tai shot to his feet when he saw her actually walk towards the portal.

"He-Hey wait! Let me lock the house up first, come on!" When Tai dashed back inside the house, he could hear Raven addressing Zwei directly.

"Let me guess: you're coming with us?"

Zwei yipped happily in reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we have some planning in motion. And Tai and Raven are on the road. I feel I should sing a folk song.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	25. The Crow and The Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a quiet moment, Summer and Qrow reflect on the past.

Summer couldn't sleep. But what else was new?

At the same time, she couldn't really complain when she woke up outside the cold clinical hospital room.

Instead of that sterile place that smelt of antiseptics and bleach, she woke up in a dark room and was greeted by the scent of the forest canopy, aftershave and coffee. Beams of moonlight spilt into the apartment from the gap between the partially drawn curtains, and beyond was a magnificent view of twinkling stars dotting the night sky.

It gave her half-asleep brain took a second to process her surroundings and her heart fluttered in panic. But traces of the familiar and the comfortable littered the room, quelling the fear before it took root.

Qrow's scythe Harbinger leaned against the wall by the bedroom door. Her twin scythes Wax and Wane set beside it. Her combat gear sat on the dresser, folded neatly beside the haphazard pile Qrow had sloppily dumped his in. The rest of the evening came back to her; after they'd finished their evening training session, Qrow had offered her a home cooked meal after she took a shower.

When Summer left on that damned mission years ago, she recalled his skills were… _dubious_ at best when it came to the culinary arts. Something she teased him about, earning an irritated grumble.

"Be honest with me: is this a wolf thing or do you just take sheer delight in being an absolute brat at all times?" Qrow asked her, shooting her glares every time she played up her displeasure at his cooking.

"You love it, don't lie." She teased back and a wry eyeroll was her response.

Despite that, Summer had found herself pleasantly surprised by his competency. And they'd enjoyed the rest of their evening together.

Evidenced by the pile of blankets crumpled on the lounge and a pair of chocolate crested mugs that sat empty on the coffee table. They'd idly skimmed through the local entertainment channels. Those were always a wash, especially in Atlas.

And then... Summer was sure she fell asleep on the couch. Evidently, Qrow had carried her to the bed before clocking out himself.

She lifted her face from her pillow - Qrow's arm as it turned out and rolled over to observe her husband's scruffy profile. His chest rising and falling in time with his gentle breathing. He looked so… content. At peace, and her heart stirred to see him so.

How long had it been since Summer woke up without breaking out in a cold sweat? Having to pull herself from the brink of a nightmare? Or screaming in such a frenzy the orderlies had to rush in and sedate her? How long had it been since she woke up safely in the warm arms of the man she loved?

How dearly she wished she could linger in this moment forever, to enjoy the simple pleasure of being in this moment. But troubles gnawed at her thoughts, insistent on robbing her of this peace.

Carefully, with the grace and care of a thief stealing into the night, Summer extracted herself from his arms and the bed. The absence of heat hit her, but she adjusted quickly padding to the dresser where she picked through her belongings. Inside her pouch was a sealed yellowed envelope with a neat script written on the front. Just one word written by a long-dead hand.

'Summer'.

Just seeing this letter and knowing of its existence felt like a knife through the heart. Guilt and dismay ate at Summer's core.

Sighing mutely, Summer held it in her hands as if it were the more delicate thing in the world and took it with her into the next room.

In the entry way was the kitchen and dinner table, and in the nook at the far corner was a desk. One with an inbuilt holo-screen and computer interface.

Quiet as a shadow, Summer made her way over and turned the device on, waiting for it to load while reverently placing the ancient letter on the desk beside her. She typed a few keys into the holographic keyboard and the screen took her directly to the news archives. She punched in more commands into the keyboard, bringing up ancient news reports all the way back to some twenty five years ago.

Reading each one of them felt like the knife in her heart was twisting. And regret weighed heavily on her mind. The front page of the oldest showed the aftermath of a particularly gruesome worker's riot that had rippled from a mine just outside the northern gate of Mantle into the city proper. One which sparked a level five Grimm attack and killed hundreds.

The corpse of her baby brother, even younger than poor Oscar, graced the front page of the news article in all its gruesome glory. with the Headline 'Mantle Riots causes Grimm Spike. Hundreds dead'.

Summer's eyes slid closed, thinking back on that horrific day.

Of her baby brother.

Just what would Kieran think of Summer now? His big sister had become a Huntress. And then tortured into a broken pathetic shell of that huntress wracked by PTSD, trapped in a war between two immortals going through the worst divorce in history.

Summer tapped a key. The next article read less like a new report and more a gossip piece by some local magazine.

'Atlas Colonel Violet Rose publicly disavows daughter'.

At the time, Summer had been too consumed by her own grief to realize just how badly her actions affected her mother. How much damage she had done to the family reputation. As she skimmed through the articles, more and more headlines followed the same unflattering pattern.

Headlines or opinion pieces like 'Fall from Prestige. The Wilting Rose' and so on. Flowery turns of phrase that turned Summer's stomach with mixed feelings of disgust and despair.

But then, there was the last article. One published about eight years ago. An obituary of her mother. Summer felt tears gather at the edges of her eyes, and did her best vain effort to calm herself. It was one thing to be told that her mother was dead, it was quite another to see the evidence. Perhaps the most heartbreaking part of it all was that Violet Rose died without even knowing her daughter still lived. Without ever meeting her granddaughter either.

Glistening tears spilt from her eyes, making shimmering tracks down her cheeks as her silver eyes glanced at the unopen envelop to the side. Quiet sniffling filled the air as Summer read her mother's entry, even as she tried to stifle the sound of her sobs with her hand. Her eyes slid closed, overcome by the grief and reality of it all.

Lanky arms slipped around her shoulders, embracing her gently from behind.

"Come back to bed."

Qrow's tired breathy whisper tickled her ear and she stifled a strained little giggle. Despite her melancholia, she leaned back into his embrace, drinking in his presence. He was like a tonic to her nerves, and for a second she could deceive herself into believing everything would be okay.

"Can't sleep." She whispered at last when she trusted herself enough to speak.

"Coming back to bed might help. Trust me, this chair ain't that comfortable for napping." Qrow tried to give some measure of levity to help her cheer up, and it worked to a point.

It wasn't until his eyes landed on what she was reading that his attempts at humour evaporated. He exhaled heavily and reached a hand out to turn off the monitor.

Qrow's words were not unsympathetic as he swiveled the chair around and hunched down to embrace his wife completely. "Damn it, woman. Don't you have enough issues to deal with already, without reading something like this?"

"I just... wanted to know." Summer whispered, burying her face in his neck.

He rubbed circles in her back. "I understand."

Summer had lost track of how long they'd remained in each other's embrace but she pulled away eventually. There was a trembling smile on her puff red face and she was struggling to hold back the tide of more. She brushed her face with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Qrow soothed, hands resting on her shoulders.

He leaned forward to plant a kiss on her brow then made his way to the kitchenette, pulling out a pair of mugs and boiling the kettle.

"You know a few years back, I found myself stopping by a small town in Northern Vale while I was on one of the old man's jobs. Nice place, decent enough food, decent enough inn." He began lightly, fixing some tea for the two of them and cutting the tense silence.

Summer raised an eyebrow, rubbing at her tears still. Qrow's nose scrunched in thought then he shook his head.

"Can't remember the name of it. But that's not the point. Point is; they were infested by Insomniac Grimm. Those termite-y little bastards had gotten their spindly little claws into everything. Pain in the ass pests if there ever were. Problem is, no one knew where the Queen bug was. So, me playing the role of the good Samaritan, I decide to stick around and try to help them fix the problem."

Qrow shook his head and groaned, "I was stuck there for eight days. Eight. _Freaking_. Days. Can you imagine going that long without sleep? Things were going nuts. Everything was going to hell. Everyone was on edge and border-line psychotic."

He laughed, both incredulous and disbelieving, "At one point I was hallucinating and swore up and down that I saw the face of **_God_**! Until I realized it was just the Inn's custodian, Monty Carlo."

Summer snorted, holding back a choked laugh.

Qrow shrugged lightly, playing off his own joke. "Bright side, I gave that dude a _hell_ of an ego boost once the Insomniac were taken care of. Man was still riding that compliment when I left that little town."

His red eyes turned back onto her, and the corner of his lips barely turned up in a smile as tears of grief were replaced with tears of mirth. Summer herself was biting down on her fist not to laugh at him.

Qrow returned to her with one of the mugs, one already with milk and doubtlessly filled with her preferred quantity of sugar.

Summer took the proffered mug and took a tentative sip of the scolding liquid before letting it rest in her lap. She stared at her sorry reflection in the pale liquid. "I'm sorry."

Qrow blinked. "For what?"

"For... everything." Summer sighed, shaking her head in dismay. "For leaving for that stupid mission. Getting captured. Being stuck with the Maiden powers. And... I'm sorry for you and Ruby. I know it has to hurt, having to sit and watch me deal with all of this crap bit by bit."

She pinched the bridge of her nose, eyes closed. "I'm just sick of being sick. I'm tired of having to fight every damn day to convince myself that this is real and happening. And not just some foul trick that she-devil is playing on me."

Qrow exhaled deeply and took a sip from his own tea. He took a seat at the dining table, resting his mug on the table and running his finger around the rim.

"Everyone has baggage, Summer. Only thing you can do is work through it one day at a time. Besides, you remember how much of a hot mess I was when _we_ first met?"

Summer shrugged, nursing her tea. "I suppose that is true. You were hot; and you were a total mess."

"Yeah. I - wait, ' _were_ '? Are you implying I'm not attractive anymore?" The faux indignation made Summer snigger a little.

"No, you were hot back then. Now you're smokin' sexy. Fine wine and all that. Besides, have I ever told you I've got a thing for salt and pepper?" Summer winked and Qrow rolled his eyes.

"If anyone didn't know the whole story between us, they'll stay I've snagged myself a young thing." Qrow answered.

"Which is... actually pretty ironic, all things considered. You were the youngest on Team STRQ as I recall."

"I'm older than Raven." Qrow complained.

"Funny. I remember that she said you were younger by fifteen minutes or something like that?" Summer noted.

Qrow sipped his tea coolly. "I reject your reality and substitute my own."

"And you call me the brat!" Summer sniggered.

The levity of the moment settled, then subsided before long. Summer took another long draft from her tea. "Do you want to talk about her? About Haven?"

Qrow shook his head, "We're talking about you right now. I can mope on my own time."

Summer cocked a dark eyebrow at him and Qrow's shoulders sagged a little. He rubbed his eyes with his spare hand. "Look... I promise I'll talk about it. But I'm more worried about you right now. So, lets just focus on that okay?"

He indicated to the yellowing letter on the desk. "I saw you with that earlier. What is it?"

Summer glanced at the old envelope. "Admiral Thorne gave me the letter. It's from my mother before she died."

Qrow frowned, confused. "Why were you talking to the Mantle Admiral? I thought James had you on lockdown. Something about being a flight risk?"

"We struck a bargain. It's actually part of the reason why he's letting me out of my little suite in the hospital half the time."

"Beyond the fact you're a seasonal maiden, and really - Who the hell can actually stop you if you wanted to escape?" Qrow added.

Summer chuckled slightly, but her expression soured as she fingered the edges of the note.

"Well, yes there is that too."

"So, let me guess: you told him something along the lines of 'Bee-Tee-Dubs, I'm the Summer Maiden, do as I say'?" Qrow joked half-heartedly.

"I told him everything you told me. About Salem, Oz and Jinn." The tea mug froze halfway to his lips and wide red eyes stared at her in stunned silence.

They slid closed and Qrow set the mug down on the table, tracing the mug's rim with a steady finger. "How did he take it?"

"Shockingly… he was pragmatic about it." Summer reported.

"In other words: next time I see him, prepare to be eviscerated. Good to know." Qrow sighed, then pointed to the letter again. "Then I assume that he let you go to Mantle and you got that letter from someone?"

"The letter was written by my mother. Admiral Thorne held onto it all these years. Maybe she was hoping to put it on my grave or something when - if she retired. Fortunately, I'm quite alive so I can read it for myself." She explained, running a finger around the faded edges of the envelope.

"You know that I didn't leave Atlas on the best of terms, right? Or her for that matter." Summer sighed, dabbing away the traces of tears glistening in the corner of her eyes. "I was a stupid brat. So damn stupid. I was so angry, my little brother was just killed by random violence and all I could selfishly think was 'How could my mother be such a cold unfeeling bitch?'."

"The only time I was ever on good terms with my mother was when she had me slashing throats when I was old enough to pick up a knife." Qrow grumbled bitterly.

Summer studied him for a long moment before half-hooded silver eyes fell to the hand-written envelop on the desk.

Qrow winced and sat back, "I'm sorry - I didn't mean-"

Summer raised her hands hastily to ward off any further apologies. She drew in a breath and smiled. "Its okay. Its okay, I promise. It's just that you're so good to me; To Ruby, Yang, the kids and everyone else that, sometimes I just forget that you came from a darker place than most."

"She disowned me. Sent me away to Vale with my Dad. Their marriage just... fell apart after that."

"Explains why you were so withdrawn back when we first met. I always thought it was timidity." Qrow mused, propping his hand on his chin.

"And I never wanted to dispel that idea. A comfortable fiction that disguised an uncomfortable truth," Summer answered, she plucked the letter from the table and held it reverently in her hand. "But when I spoke to Aunt Iris, she told me that my mother didn't hate me as much as I thought. She received every letter I wrote."

Summer gave a sad little laugh, "They even had a running bet on whether or not our marriage would last. Can you believe that?"

"I mean - there was about a fourteen year or so break. What with the whole- _thing_." He waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder.

Summer chuckled and stared down at the letter. "My mother didn't hate me. I always thought she did, but she didn't... and now-"

She cut herself off.

Qrow finished the thought for her. "Now that you're back in Atlas, you're lamenting that you never got the chance to patch things up with her."

Summer tapped a tuneless little beat into her mug. "Even though I'm back in my homeland where I thought I'd find relief, I guess all of the memories I'd buried are coming back with a vengeance. Add a sprinkling of cruel captivity by the devil incarnate, and you have the lovely Post Traumatic sundae that is me."

Qrow frowned, looking off into space. "I think you've mixed your metaphors a bit there."

"Don't be a smartarse, Stilts." Summer bemoaned.

"Can't help it. Part of my charm and all that." Qrow gave a half shrug, "Have you read it?"

"I know I should. Out of a sense of respect and honour if nothing else. But I'm scared about what it'll have to say. It is my mother reaching out to me? Or a last bitter condemnation of everything I've done wrong in my life?" Summer set it down again, eyes sliding closed. "I know I won't find out unless I read it, but I'm afraid to. Its a Vacuo Roulette I'm not willing to play right now."

Qrow rose from his seat and crossed the room to kneel before her. "No one's saying you have to open it right now. Its waited years. I think the dead can wait a little while longer."

"Well..." Summer leaned back in her chair, looking into his eyes with a wry expression. "You've completely failed to console me."

"You're right. I'm terrible at it. Most of the time, anyway." Qrow conceded, he rested a hand on her lap.

"What would you like to do now?" He asked, rising to his feet. "I have the vague notion that neither of us are in a particular mood to go back to sleep."

Summer slumped, shaking her head. "I don't know."

"Do you wanna head out, maybe get a midnight snack." He offered his hand to her.

"I don't know, I guess."

"Lets go get something to eat."

Ten minutes later, Qrow and Summer left the living complex in their full Huntsmen attire. Qrow's trusty Harbinger at his back, and Summer's twin scythes on her hips. Arm in arm, they wondered into Atlas' trade distinct, still abuzz with activity at this ungodly hour, searching for something that would take their fancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for couple counseling! Sort of! To clarify: Yes, Summer's little brother's name was Kieran Rose. Kieran meaning 'dark'.
> 
> One - I have seen the new RWBY episode and I am far from impressed. Ironwood, you coward! Shoot both of them!
> 
> Two - Sadly, I didn't achieve my goal of having this story finished before RWBY V8 started, but the year has been hectic and I'm lazy so... yeah. This story will run atypical to canon as you well know, and will feature its own ending. I may integrate things that V8+ have introduced, but in general, this story isn't going to follow the same direction.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	26. Planning Ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a new Ally in his corner, General Ironwood plans his next move going forward. And attempts to halt a threat brewing right beneath their feet.

Winter Schnee was privately pleased that the General was looking particularly well today.

His beard was tidied, he looked like he'd actually slept for longer than two hours. And while dark bags were still firmly etched under his eyes, their effect had been lessened significantly. His desk was set against a comparatively grim backdrop. A thick blanket of grey clouds hung over Atlas like a shroud, illuminated occasionally by the gleaming lights of the main city drag. The Altesian air fleet floated gently across the skies around the city's perimeter, like the navy barges of ancient days gliding across a storm grey ocean.

A fresh pot of coffee sat on his desk, and a pair of mugs beside it. A freshly brewed pot that couldn't be more than ten minutes old judging by the pale steam. And it held a particular hazelnut aroma. That meant it wasn't from the cafeteria, It was from the General's personal stash of beans.

Ironwood had taken time out to brew his own coffee this morning. And that was a good omen.

Winter only hoped the morning's reports would enhance his mood, not dampen it as she strode confidently into the office with the morning's reports under her arm.

"General." She snapped a crisp salute, which Ironwood returned.

"Winter. Good morning." He greeted back, refocusing on the holographic display on his desk, pausing from his typing only to take a sip from a mug he'd poured himself.

Offhandedly, he gestured to the spare mug.

"Feel free to pour yourself a cup." Ironwood invited and Winter did just so.

She placed the tablet down on his desk containing the daily briefing and sipped the infusion. While not her favourite roast, the coffee was to her liking. Remembering herself, Winter straightened her back and stood at attention… albeit with the mug still level.

"The morning's reports. It seemed that our... guest, Huntress Rose was discharged from hospital last night. According to the logs, she attended her scheduled training session with Qrow and then spent the evening with him. At oh-two-twenty five, they left the residency for a meal in the city. According to eyewitness reports, they returned at oh-seven hundred, where Specialist Harriet Bree and Reed took over guard duty while Qrow moved to attend an elimination bounty."

Winter couldn't quite keep the edge of disapproval out her tone. While the doctors have found the Huntress psychologically sound enough to resume training, there was still a potential security risk attached to the woman. Not only because of her captor, but because of the unique power in her possession. Powers, Winter should say.

"You sound like you disapprove." Ironwood noted, raising an eyebrow at her.

"It was a dereliction in protocol, though I suppose that the circumstances are... _understandable_."

Winter had to concede the point. Weiss had disappeared from Atlas for only a few months at most and Winter was beside herself with worry. She couldn't even begin to imagine believing her sister had been dead for years on end, only to discover that Weiss was alive all along.

Accepting the point meant she found herself in the unpleasant situation of sympathising with a certain drunkard, but Winter swallowed down her pride. Even as it left a bitter taste.

"Neither of them are military officers or Specialists, they're not expected or required to conform to your timetables." Ironwood reminded her gently.

"Of course sir. My apologies."

Ironwood shook his head. "I wasn't chastising you, Schnee. I was just reminding you that their disciplines vary from ours. And I'm not going to fault a man for wanting to make up for lost time with his wife."

Ironwood mused vaguely then slumped back in his chair, lips pressed in a thin line as he took another sip of his coffee.

"But you _are_ correct. It would've been nice if they gave us a heads up first. Partner or no, Rose is still a Maiden and we have no idea where our enemies may be lurking. They could very well be within our walls and we don't even know it. Especially since we still haven't put a face to the people behind the killings down in Mantle. While I don't doubt Qrow's abilities, Summer's powers are both valuable assets we can't allow to fall into enemy hands. And it's too important a job to entrust to a single Huntsman."

A dark shadow crossed Ironwood's face as he stared at his computer screen, his brow furrowing in anger. "After all, entrusting everything to a single point of failure - _that's_ how we lost control of the Fall Maiden in the first place. But it seems the only lessons we learn are the ones written in blood."

Winter was silent. The General took another long draft of his coffee, savouring the taste while he was locked in his own thoughts for a moment. He glanced up and waved for Winter to continue her summary.

"Additionally, the situation in Mantle is still precarious as we expect. However, since Admiral Thorne returned to her post, her adjutants Commodore Everest and Secretary Teale have become exponentially more willing to cooperate in our efforts to source the materials for the Amity Project."

Ironwood gave a sound of approval, erasing his fleeting foul mood. "Glad to hear it. The Admiral and I were able to come to an understanding that'll help secure the future of our Kingdom. I'm glad to see it's already bearing fruit."

"That is wonderful news, Sir." Winter nodded, relieved. "May I ask what our plans are now? With the Admiral and the Navy backing us, does that mean we can expedite the construction of the Amity Communication tower?"

"Yes. And no." The General's return surprised Winter, and she blinked in confusion.

"What do you mean, sir?" Winter questioned, her back straightening with Ironwood arched an eyebrow at her.

"Over the course of our discussion, the Admiral furnished me with information regarding certain construction plans and materials. When I revealed the full scope of the Amity Project to her, she claimed that her own protocols would provide a superior option to the original project."

Ironwood folded his hands and leaned on his desk.

"I've spent the last twenty-four hours reviewing the protocols, and I find myself wholeheartedly agreeing with that claim. However, it also would require a great deal of re-evaluation of our resource distribution, relocation efforts for citizenry and diverting a significant portion of our raw material cost to Mantle for the repair efforts to its foundations."

Winter's head tilted to one side, confused. "Respectfully sir, what could possibly serve -"

Ironwood's door chime cut Winter off, "Come in."

At Ironwood's invitation, the door opened revealing the Commander of the Ace Ops Clover Ebi, as well as Secretary Teale. The civilian woman was dressed in an unranked naval uniform of dark green, grey and gold.

"General." Clover straightened his back and snapped off a clean salute.

"General Ironwood." Secretary Teale inclined her hair politely.

Ironwood's gaze narrowed at the slight woman. "I requested Admiral Thorne's presence or a communication line. May I ask why you're here in her place?"

"You did indeed, but overnight the situation in Mantle has become quite precarious, and the Admiral's attentions are required to handle the matter personally. In that vein, she has authorized me to act as her representative instead. She has also provided me a complete briefing on what may be discussed in this meeting, and I am well equipped to ask any questions you may have. I have a writ of permission here."

The Secretary walked forward and presented a hastily written note with the seal of the Admiral's office and her swirling signature at its authoring line. "You may authenticate it if you wish."

"There's no need. This is real. So long as Thorne's representative is present, we can attend to the matter at hand." General Ironwood set the paper note aside and plucked his scroll from his desk.

"I'm keeping this information between us for now. Simply put, I have reason to suspect that Team RWBY was not completely honest with me in the matter of our enemy. I fully expect their intentions were well-meaning, but the information they neglected to provide me revealed the true scope of the enemy we face. In that vein, I want it made perfectly clear that nothing of what's discussed here will leave this room. Winter and Clover, you will not breathe a word of it unless I specifically order you to do so. Secretary Teale, I expect the only person you will relay this information to is the Admiral. Am I understood?"

"Yes sir." Winter and Clover answered in unison, Secretary Teale simply nodded once.

"I understand completely, General."

"Good." General Ironwood pressed a button on his remote and the central table elevated, folding out into its projector form.

"Admiral Thorne has provided me with plans - or perhaps it's more appropriate to say she entrusted to me a _Legacy_. A Legacy dubbed the Evernight Citadel Protocol. These files contained a series of schematics, timetables and schedules to convert Atlas itself into a massive mobile fortress. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say that it will allow Atlas to _return_ to its original purpose as a Bulwark against the Grimm."

"A Bulwark, sir?" Winter echoed, blinking in surprise.

"Indeed." Ironwood answered, "It appears that my predecessor Patricia Palatinate foresaw a day where we would need more than a weapon. We would need a Bastion, a symbol of peace beyond what any one person could provide."

The central projector illuminated the room with an image of the floating city of Atlas. And they watched as an overlay of ablative armour plating, secondary and tertiary hard-light shield generators, heavy propulsion engines, huge skyscraper tall communication towers.

Then the weapon mountings appeared, jacketing the entire projection with lines upon lines of gun batteries, missile silos, magnetic accelerator cannons and point defense weaponry. The original city's outline had completely vanished in a layer of defense and firepower.

"How is this even possible?" Winter Schnee asked, awestruck as she watched more and more overlays fall across the base City. It completed with a large ring of docking platforms with Atlas at its core.

"It's ridiculous," Clover agreed, gesturing to the hologram. "Respectfully General, the time investment of this alone would be insane. It wouldn't even be complete in our lifetimes."

"And you'd be correct." Secretary Teale nodded then looked up at the hologram to indicate the projection's core. "However, there is one key factor you're missing in to make this possible. A factor that would make this entire project possible. One present and responsible for launching this city into the sky."

"And that factor would be the Staff of Creation." Winter Schnee concluded.

Teale shot her a look, an eyebrow raised then hummed to herself. "Yes. Of course you would be aware of it. That makes my job here easier."

The Secretary pulled out her scroll and opened it to tablet format. Notes scrolled across its blue surface as she glanced between it and the three military officers in the room.

Winter frowned in disapproval as she took control of the briefing, but a quick glance to Ironwood and the subtlest nod made her bite down a protest.

The General indicated to the hologram. "In accordance with this protocol, Patricia Palatinate envisioned that the City we know as Atlas would become a bastion, a rally point and a mobile base akin to the Amity Project - controlled and maintained by contingents consisting of Military and Huntsmen personnel from all four kingdoms. Just as Amity was meant to symbolise the peace between nations, Atlas was to expand on that ideal."

"Respectfully Sir, that still leaves us the issue of material and resources. We couldn't possibly-" Clover Ebi protested, abruptly cutting himself off. "-Unless, the plan requires access to the Staff of Creation."

"Indeed." Teale agreed.

"But the staff can only be used for one purpose at a time." Winter interjected, glancing at the General for confirmation.

"It can only be used for one purpose at a time? What kind of _idiot_ god creates a relic that can only shift a comparatively small amount of terrain? Gravity Dust generators working around the clock could perform the same task." Teale echoed incredulously, then frowned bitterly. "Not a particularly divine relic if human hands can do the job."

"The same idiot god who gave us Salem as a foe to contend with." Ironwood answered grimly. "However, the reorganisation of Atlas is only half the protocol."

"Only half?" Clover interjected, then pointedly looked at the civilian woman for an explanation. "What precisely does that mean?"

"Bluntly put, the other half of the protocol is the reason why _we_ \- the Mantle half of the Kingdom - have been so desperately seeking aide to repair our infrastructure and declining any further attempts to pilfer our diminished resources for your project." Teale said. She looked up and stared both soldiers in the eyes.

"Atlas was _never_ meant to be in civilian hands. It was always intended to be a battle fortress."

The secretary exhaled, exasperation dripped from every word. "But in his infinite wisdom, the former King of Vale - or Ozpin as you once knew him - decided to co-opt the plans for his own... less than optimal designs. Unfortunately, the council of the time overruled the military's protests and the project was repurposed to fit its new role."

The teal-haired woman walked up to the holographic interface and pressed a few keys set into the projector itself. The holographic interface shifted, shrinking Atlas to a fraction of its size and bringing up a topographical map of the City of Mantle.

"Which leads us to the other current problem implementing this protocol. Mantle was supposed to be the principal capital of Solitas and was intended to serve as the most secure and heavily defended human bastion this side other equator. Instead, its become a rundown shell of its former glory, thanks to the greed and extortion of capitalists like the Schnee Dust Company, the Altius Armaments Cooperation and others."

"Mantle is supposed to be a safe haven. And Atlas has gutted its capability to serve that purpose. Is that what you're saying?" Clover questioned, crossing his arms with a skeptical expression.

"Now, you understand why we've been pushing back against your demands for materials in favour of repairing our subterranean plate. At least, officially. Aside from trying to provide our people with the basic living provisions they desperately need, we've been attempting to maintain the spirit of the original Evernight Protocol."

"Officially. What's the unofficial story?" Winter pressed.

Teale glanced up at the General for a split second as if seeking permission, then pressed on. "The official excuse is the plate requires extensive maintenance due to an elaborate scheme of dust and energy traps that lay across its underbelly. These are meant to protect the city itself from burrower type Grimm that may attempt to attack from underneath. However, just like with Atlas' own float systems, the truth is a little more complicated than what the world is lead to believe."

"The Subterranean plate has never required repair work. And it never will." Ironwood explained to his subordinates. "The matrix is made of a semi-sentient biosynthetic alloy that cannot be corroded or rusted. It will always repair itself."

The General paused for a moment to contemplate, "Actually, its far better to say it will always _heal_ itself."

"Heal itself?" Clover questioned, he shook his head. "Sir, you make it sound like its alive."

Teale nodded. "That's because it is after a fashion. Bluntly stated: the Subterranean plate is the _first_ attempt to create the Atlas Project utilizing the Staff of Creation. However, for complex reasons that are too numerous to discuss at the moment, that plan failed. Instead, it was adapted to become the base layer of armour plating that would protect Mantle from Grimm incursion."

"And this business with the pillars?" Winter inquired,

"Oh, they _are_ in desperate need of repair. They aren't just there to support the plate and prevent our fair little city from collapsing into the Tundra, they're there to limit the growth of the plate." Teale explained patiently. "Perhaps its better to refer to them less as 'Pillars' and more as 'Anchors'."

"The growth of the plate?" Clover echoed.

"Yes. As the General has just explained, the plate itself is a biosynthetic creation with a measure of sentience. A ravenous sentience at that. The Pillars are constructed and anchored around the edges of that plate to ensure it doesn't expand beyond our ability to cull."

"And if the pillars do collapse?" It was a question that had to be asked, and Winter loathed to be the one to ask it.

"Then the alloy will expand in accordance to the raw earth materials it consumes, converting rare earth and dust into fuel to further its expansion. If left unchecked, it could consume the entire continent in a matter of months. Perhaps weeks."

The full measure of the consequences impressed themselves upon everyone officers present. Teale simply shrugged. "Now you understand why we are so insistent."

"You're being reassigned." Ironwood declared, turning back to his desk and taking a seat. "Given the nature of the elements involved, I'm reassigning the Ace Ops and a contingent of Specialists to repairing the plate. The Amity Project will still proceed at a pace, but if we lose any of those pillars, the plate will expand beyond our ability to contain."

Winter and Clover both were still processing the gravity of the situation, but snapped off crisp salutes. "When you get to Mantle, Coordinate with Thorne's Corsairs. This situation now has your top priority. All other matters are secondary."

"Yes sir." They answered in chorus.

"Dismissed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this nugget since I first started writing this story. Atlas is meant to be basically the Phalanx of RWBY and Mantle is supposed to be the Capital City of Solitas. Also, Corsair is the Mantle equivalent to an Atlas Specialist.
> 
> I welcome feedback and criticism,
> 
> Aurora313


	27. Author's Note: Abandoning this story.

Look. I've written draft after draft for this announcement and I've just been unable to come out and say it because frankly, I feel that the time and effort could be put to more productive use. So here's the rub: I'm quitting this piece. And the show as a whole.

The why is a long and bloody affair that requires more effort than I'm willing to put forward. But here's the TL; DR:

Because I have given RWBY eight years of my life to capitalize on the wonderful and near limitless potential it had as a series concept, only to watch it get squandered by incompetency, idiocy and the crushing need to rip off some of the most beloved shows of our time. Put bluntly, I got a RT first subscription all those years ago to watch Monty's RWBY - I _didn't_ get a first Subscription to watch Miles and Kerry's rip-off Avatar The Last Airbender.

I could talk about the controversies of the last couple years, but that's a very muddy very bloody subject and I have neither the time nor patience to pick through that malarkey. Suffice it to say, I can no longer tolerate the sheer stupidity, moronic and ass-end-backwards decision making that's gone into the story that's made it as insufferable as it is. How its made the characters into ghosts of their former selves because the protagonists have to be 'right' all the time, or 'right all along'.

And Heaven forbid another character take them to task for it without being framed as a 'bad guy'. I'm sick of it. The concept of nuance just doesn't exist in RWBY, and Black-and-White story telling has been and always will be a massive turn off for me.

 ** _Yes_** Ironwood is in the right. **_Yes_** , he is **_still_ **in the right when he shot the Councilman. Why? Because the Councilman was an active incompetent hindrance in a lawful military defensive action, or because he was criminally negligent and stupid not to recognize the situation they were facing. Sleet was told about Salem, the immortal Grimm witch who controlled their mortal enemy and failed to make the leap of 'Oh shit, that Giant Whale might be her'?! If he couldn't figure out that one-plus-one-equals-two, then he deserves to be shot - if nothing else, to remove his stupidity from the gene pool.

Then again, I have every belief that in the hands of competent writers with more than two braincells put together, we would still be rooting for both sides. Or, better yet, _this farcical conflict wouldn't exist in the first place._

Ranting aside because my blood pressure is high enough today: I figured that I could at least give you the highlights of the story meant to come as a parting gift. I'm also willing to clarify any points or answer any questions I've missed in the comments.

* * *

**Plot:**

**Act One conclusion:**

Thanks to Cinder's shenanigans with the lingering White Fang Remnants and usurping control from Icarus Charwood who was revealed as a Navy Intelligence officer, Mantle's Subterranean plate buckles and half of the City ends up into the catacombs below the city.

Cinder is killed in a battle between herself, Raven and Summer. Her human consciousness is killed and the Fall Maiden Powers pass onto Winter - who joined the battle at a later time. It would be a long and grueling affair that would have involved Summer using her magic to control Mantle's anti-air anti-Grimm cannons, Raven going full maiden and summoning a whole verdant forest with her powers while Cinder incinerates it all with firestorms. And a lot of support elements from Qrow, Clover, Icarus Charwood, Tai and others. Weakened, Cinder is not granted final words as Raven beheads her.

The Powers move on, but the Grimm arm turns full flood parasite, twists Cinder into a Grimm monstrosity that RWBY JNR take out.

Ironwood and Thorne both are pissed off at RWBYJNRO for concealing Ozpin's true nature and the Relics from them. And Thorne makes it clear that if it weren't for Ironwood's word, she'd have locked them all in the deepest darkest hole she could find at best - have them all _executed_ at worst. As they came into her Kingdom, they were unknown threats that caused a whole slew of problems, including stirring up the White Fang which allowed Cinder to take control and ultimately facilitate the collapse of the Subterranean plate.

**Act two:**

Summer, Clover and Icarus as sent on a mission to Vacuo to retrieve the Relic of Destruction, the latter two acting as representatives of the Atlas Military and Mantle Navy respectively. Qrow opts to travel with them because there's no chance in hell he's letting his wife go to through that trauma alone.

At the same time, Tai and Raven are attempting to reintegrate the latter into the group, sort through issues and so on. Unfortunately, Raven's grasp on redemption is tenuous at best and her first instinct is still to run. Tai eventually forces her to sit down with Yang and put everything on the table. Raven was scared of Salem, and even fought the woman once. She saw first hand that Salem was immortal and ran like hell because how can you defeat something like that? Yang rebuffs her by saying the only other choice is to lay down and die. Echoing Tai's words to Raven in earlier chapters.

Meanwhile, Ironwood is seething with rage since he wants to put Raven behind bars for being a traitor to the cause, a backstabber who nearly let the Relic of Knowledge fall into Salem's hands, and murdering the previous Spring maiden. A girl that was in Ironwood's care for a time since he found her during a diplomatic mission to Haven and he grew to care deeply for her in that short time.

Meanwhile meanwhile, Thorne and Ironwood use Djinn's final question to ask what would happen if a relic was destroyed. 

This is my major retcon for this story: The relics are akin to the world's foundation or the **Jörmungandr** \- the Old Norse World Serpent who would manifest Ragnarok should it ever release its tail. In this RWBY story, destroy the relics would be the equivalent of starting Remnant's own version of Ragnarok. Souls crossing the veil to fight and all. The vengeful souls will cross over, and slaughter those foolish enough to destroy the Gods' holy relics.

In Vacuo, Tyrian has tracked down and promises to kill Summer Rose slowly and painfully for her escaping Salem's captivity. Unfortunately, he declares this in front of her little harem. Qrow, Clover and Icarus have objections to this. Clover and Icarus make it a point to state that this fight is personal and they remove their badges of office to emphasis the point. All three men are out for Tyrian's blood. Battle is joined, Tyrian breaks one of Icarus' wings and scores a long wound on Clover from his stomach to his neck - invoking the canon impaling wound that killed Clover. Tyrian manages to disarm Qrow and break his aura while Summer is retrieving the relic. Icarus casts a distraction and then a severely wounded Clover comes in from behind and impales Tyrian through the back. He rips Harbinger upwards, more or less cleaving the mad man in two.

They recover from their wounds and go home to Atlas with the sword in hand.

**Act Three:**

Atlas is on a war footing as Salem's Monster Whale approaches. Final battle is joined.

A lot of shenanigans ensue. Watts is executed by Thorne without mercy or means of compromise. Penny becomes the Winter Maiden and goes with Winter to the vault so they can both use their maiden powers to help the defense effort by manifesting more defensive options.

Through various means and subterfuge, Salem obtains the sword and begins carving a path through everything Atlas can throw at her before boarding the fortress and destroying everything along side her Grimm. Emerald has switched sides at this point and Mercury is chasing after her.

Eventually, Salem is tricked through Emerald's illusion semblance that what she's destroying with the Sword is some important component of the Atlas Battle Fortress that will bring the entire thing over the ocean, drowning millions. What she struck instead was the Relic of Knowledge, set there as a trap.

The broken relic explodes, shooting a beam of light into the heavens which tears the whole sky asunder in a flurry of rainbow light. The roof of the world is shattering into pieces and on the other side, vengeful spirits of the dead and passed come rushing forward. Just as Djinn prophesized, the souls of the dead all but slaughter the Grimm assaulting Atlas and drag Salem kicking and screaming into the realm of the dead. 

Because she is a being of eternal life by the Gods' own curse, she cannot experience the relief of death unlike other poor souls. So, she is sealed within the realm of the dead where souls and the very realm itself forever more attempt to tear her atom by atom. The split in the heavens seals shortly thereafter and the relic is reconstituted, but a massive glowing scar akin to an Aurora light event is perpetually present in the sky all over the world as a lasting scar.

 **Epilogue** : 

The Grimm have run rampant, Huntsmen and Huntresses, Armies and civilians alike have endured all forms of merry hell for the six months since Salem's defeat. Without their master, the Grimm have become a wild uncontrollable threat. Peace and sleep are rare commodities. The Atlas Battle fortress along side Amity tower, similarly converted, move to provide support where they can. 

Raven and Yang journey together for a long time, Raven seeking atonement for what she's done and Yang going with her to keep her on the straight and narrow. As a Maiden, Raven is also helping throughout the world to stem the tide of Grimm or decimate larger groups before they can hit huge population centers.

Summer travels as well with the Sword of Destruction in hand, performing her duties. Ruby and Qrow travel with her. Winter and Weiss are working with Atlas. Blake returns to Menagerie and the new White Fang her father is building and acts half as Huntsmen protection and half as an ambassador between Menagerie and Haven. (What she actually did to earn this position? Don't ask me because I have no fucking idea. Nepotism probably.)

Some months later, when everything settles down marginally. Summer and Qrow have two more children. Twin boys named Kieran (meaning dark haired one and after Summer's brother) and Larkin. They're identical twins, save for Kieran inheriting a white version of the Rose black-to-red hair style. The white coming from his Paternal Grandmother.

Thorne retires after receiving a career ending injury. Icarus becomes the Admiral of the Mantle Navy some years later. Oh, by the way, Icarus is Thorne's son. 

Ironwood gets together with Glynda after they reconnect during the Vale reclamation efforts. 

STRQ and RWBY (if desired) are invited to Clover and Icarus' wedding. They later adopt a young orphan girl from Mistral and foster a few more orphans in Mantle.

* * *

**Final Causality** **list:**

Cinder Fall, Jaune Arc, Hazel Reinhart, Tyrian Callows, Salem (permanently incapacitated), Headmaster Theodore, Arthur Watts, Professor Peter Port, Ozpin, Scarlet David, Sage Ayana, Neptune Vasillias, Coco Adel, Fox Alistair, Harriet Bree, Vine Zeki. Hundreds of Thousands of Soldiers. Billions of civilians.

* * *

**Final notes:**

Salem's punishment for her crimes of orchestrating one planetary extinction while actively orchestrating another is to suffer in perpetuity. 

Tyrian gets cleaved in half. Cinder gets incinerated and her body deformed into a puppet with exactly as much respect given to her as the vile wench deserves. Watts gets the reward every traitor deserves. Hazel? I don't know, gets eaten alive by a Grimm or something - or he's dragged to hell along side Salem when she shatters the relic. Mercury and Emerald are charged for their complacency in bringing down a nation and charged with war crimes. Mercury in for more counts of murder while Emerald is also charged with thief on top of that.

If you wanted me to give them more charitable endings, then blame RT for making their crimes as disgustingly severe as possible. These people have committed crimes that cannot and should not be forgiven. Anyone who thinks they deserve a redemption arc at all are delusional. 

The good guys do win, but the cost is great and the world has a massive wound that will never heal because of it.

So, yeah. This was where my story was going to go and I have no issues if anyone wants to use these concepts in the future because - in the word of the classics - _**I'm out.**_

Regards,

Aurora313

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to ask me character specific questions: Shoot. I'll answer what I can.
> 
> Aurora313


End file.
